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INTRODUCTORY DISCOURSE
AND THE i.v'^^ "" •'
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LECTURES
OILIVEREO BEFORE THE
AMERICAN INSTITUTE OF INSTRUCTION,
BOSTON, AUGUST, 1834.
INCLUDING THE JOURNAL OF PROCEEDINGS,
A LIST OF THE OFFICERS
PUBLISUEU UNDER THE DIRECTION OF THE BOARD Oi CENSORS.
BOSTON:
CARTER, HEN DEE AND CO.
1835.
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C ONTENTS.
JOURNAL OF PROCEEDINGS, page ix
LIST OF OFFICERS, xiv
ANNUAL REPORT, xxiii
INTRODUCTORY LECTURE, by Caleb Cushing, ... 1
Advancement characteristic of the European stock, 3 — modes in which
it is effected — individual efforts — voluntary societies, 4 — the true
uses of instruction, 5 — Rousseau's views, 6 — Condorcet's doctrine of per-
fectibility, 7 — popular education, 7 — analysis of the elementary parts of
instruction, 8 — moral cultivation recommended by Locke, Kames, and
Milton, 10 — Mr Roebuck's motion in the House of Commons, 10 —
Cobbett's objections to popular education considered, 11 — statistics of crime
in England and Russia, 15 — discussions in France relating to popular
education, 17 — distinctions between the population of America and of
Europe, 19 — in political institutions, 19 — in intellectual condition, 20 —
in their moral and religious condition, 22 — source of this difference, 23 —
union of moral and intellectual instruction the only true basis of popular
education, 25 — danger to our social system from disorganizing principle?,
27 — Appendix.
LECTURE I.
ON THE BEST MODE OF FIXING THE ATTENTION OF THE
YOUNG. By Warren Burton 41
Attention to be secured by adequate motives, 43 — emulation defined,
44 — objections to it — its injustice, 45 — its injury to health, 47 — diverts
the student from the real end of study, 48 — does not produce its intended
effects, 49 — a substitute for emulation proposed, 50 — self-comparison, 51
iv CONTENTS.
—registry of the mental character of pupils, 52 — answers to objections, 54
— children should be early taught their real nature and great destiny, 55 —
instruction upon this subject on the sabbath not sufficient, 57 — the highest
moral principles to be cultivated, 58 — advantages of mutual instruction, 59
— appeals to conscience, 61 — encouragement to effort from the considera-
tion of the permanent effects of early impressions, 62 — attention of the
teacher must be given to his work, 63 — motives which should influence a
teacher, 65.
LECTURE III.
ON THE IMPROVEMENT WHICH MAY BE MADE IN THE
CONDITION OF COMMON SCHOOLS. By Stephen Farley. 67
Importance of the common school system, 69 — present condition of
common schools, 70 — their defects, 71 — remedy, an efficient supervision,
75 — general measures for the improvement of common schools, 77 —
circulation of tracts relating to this subject, 77 — a board of education, 79
— their duties, 79.
LECTURE IV.
THE DUTIES OF PARENTS, IN REGARD TO THE SCHOOLS
WHERE THEIR CHILDREN ARE INSTRUCTED. By Jacob
Abbott 81
Their duties commence with the first arrangements respecting the school,
83 — they should feel an interest in the school, 84 — should endeavor to
secure a good teacher, 85 — parents should take an interest in the plans and
labors of the teacher, 87 — should submit to the necessary arrangements
for the general good of the school, 89 — conversation between a mother and
teacher, 90 — parents should not judge the teacher on the testimony of their
children, 91 — reasons for this rule, 92 — when the teacher has done wrong
they should not condemn him too severely, 95 — their duty in regard to
example, 96 — causes of failure in the education of children, 97 — two rules
for preventing such failures, 98.
LECTURE V.
ON MATERNAL INSTRUCTION, AND MANAGEMENT OF IN-
FANT SCHOOLS. By M. M. Carll 99
Tendency of man to look at the world without, rather than the world
within, 101 — principles of the human mind, 104 — will and understanding,
105 — the renovation of the will the great purpose of education, 106 — means
CONTENTS. V
for this purpose, 108 — maternal influence, 109 — state of female education,
111 — reverence for the female sex, 113 — importance of an adequate
system of female education, 119 — maternal discipline, 121 — a proper
nursery system, 126 — importance of the principle of obedience, 128 —
conscience derives its quality from education, 130 — infant schools, 132 —
principles upon which they should be conducted, 133.
LECTURE VI.
ON TEACHING THE ELEMENTS OF MATHEMATICS. By Thomas
Sherwin 137
Supposed difference of original capacity for comprehending the truths of
this science, 139 — utility of this department of instruction, 141 — to exercise
the mind and develope the reasoning powers — the acquisition of knowl-
edge, 141 — arithmetic, mental and written, 141 — many of the common
rules of arithmetic unnecessary for the learner, 145 — algebra to succeed
arithmetic, 147 — those treatises to be preferred at first, in which generali-
zation is not carried to its full extent, 148 — method of instruction, 149 —
geometry, 153 — advantages of the analytical method, 154 — Definitions,
154 — Pascal's rules, 155 — proportion, 158 — the Cambridge course, 164
— Colburn's works, 165. _^^
LECTURE VII.
ON THE DANGEROUS TENDENCY TO INNOVATIONS AND
EXTREMES IN EDUCATION. By Hubbard Winslow. . 167
Innovation the characteristic of the age, 169 — dangers arising from this
tendency, 170 — experience of past ages, not useless, 171 — the present not
an age of thorough thinking, 171 — innovations in physical education, 172
— gymnastic exercises, 172 — manual labor schools, 173 — example of the
Greeks and Romans — of the moderns, 174 — craniology, 176 — innova-
tions in intellectual education, 178 — in modes of instruction, 178 — in
school books, 179 — effects upon the learned professions, 180 — innovations
in moral education, 181 — corporeal punishment, 182 — the will to be
subdued, 183 — effects of indulgence, 185 — the principles of the bible
should have supreme dominion, 187.
LECTURE VIII.
ON UNITING IN A SYSTEM OF EDUCATION, MANUAL WITH
MENTAL LABOR. By Beriah Green 189
The author's attachment to the union of manual and mental labor
' «
Vi CONTENTS.
derived from his own experience, 191 — requisites for carrying the system
into effect, 193 — extent of the farm, 193 — rules for mechanical operations,
194 — cost of the necessary arrangements, 196 — the student may in part
defray the expenses of his education, 197 — objections made to the system,
198 —replies, 200^ some results of spontaneous action, 202— the influence
of manual labor in promoting good order 202— its influence on genius, 202—
unites the different classes of community, 204 — effect upon moral char-
acter, 205 — appeal to the public for aid, 206.
LECTURE IX.
ON THE HISTORY AND USES OF CHEMISTRY. By C. T. Jackson,
M. D 207
Definition of chemistry, 209 — its uses, 209— its direct application to the
arts — to medicine, 210 — history of the science, 211 — Alchemy — the
chemistry of the Arabians and Egyptians, 211 — of the Greeks, 212 —
introduced into Spain by the Saracens, and thence disseminated over
Europe and Asia, 212 — philosopher's stone, 213 — Paracelsus — Glauber
— Lord Bacon — Black — Cavendish — Priestly, 214 ~ Lavoisier — Berg-
man—Scheele, 215 — Berthollet — Monge — Chaptal, 216 — theory of defi-
nite proportions — Dalton — Berzelius — metallic bases of the alkalies and
earths — Davy — sketch of his career, 217 — distinguished chemists of the
present day, 218 — uses of chemistry to persons in the various professions,
221 — its value in education, 223.
LECTURE X.
ON THE INTRODUCTION OF NATURAL HISTORY AS A STUDY
TO COMMON SCHOOLS. By A. A. Gotjld, M. D. . . 225
Cause of the neglect of Natural History as a branch of common educa-
tion, 227 — its advantages as a mental exercise — to remove certain preju-
dices, 228 — the direct uses of the knowledge of natural history, 229 —
tends to render us satisfied with the arrangements of nature, 229 — its
moral effect, 231 — its use as a relaxation and amusement, 232 — as a
source of health, 233 — extent to which it can be introduced into common
education, 236 — anecdote of a little boy, 236 — manner of studying natural
history, 236 — to be confined principally to observation 238 — comparative,
claims of different branches of natural history, 241.
CONTENTS, VU
LECTURE XI.
ON THE SCIENCE OF GOVERNMENT AS A BRANCH OF POPU-
LAR EDUCATION. By Joseph Story 234
•
Three principal heads of inquiry, 249 — first, the importance of the sci-
ence of government, 250 — difficulties which oppose the progress of this
science, 251 — erroneous doctrine of Pope, Goldsmith and Johnson, 253 —
erroneous opinion that government is a matter of great simplicity, 254 —
peculiar importance of this science to Americans, 255 — the great objects of
free governments, 255 — the people responsible for the preservation of tlieir
rights, 256 — our form of government complicated, 257 — interpretation of
constitutional questions, 258 — perplexing duties of legislation, 258 — this
science important to private citizens, 260 — influence of public opinion, 262 —
factions, 263 — secondly practicability of teaching the science of government,
264 — simplicity of many of its principles, 264 — of the constitution of the
United States, 264 — no solid objections to making this science a branch of
popular education, 270 — collateral advantages, 272 — third, mode of
teaching this science in common schools, 27? — opinion of Lord Brough
am, 274.
JOURNAL OF PROCEEDINGS.
FIFTH ANNUAL MEETING.
Representatives' Hall, Boston, Aug. 21, 1834.
The Institute came to order at ten o'clock, A. M. Mr James
G. Carter of Lancaster in the chair.
The record of doings of the last annual meeting were read in
part ; the reading of the remainder was dispensed with.
Voted, That Messrs A. Andrews of Charlestown, Pike,
and Robinson of Boston, be a Committee to fix the hour of
meeting of the Institute on the several days of the session, and
also the hour at which the several lectures shall be given.
Voted, That Messrs H. W. Carter of Boston, A. An-
drews of Charlestown, and W. H. Brooks of Salem, be a Com-
mittee to report for the newspapers the daily transactions of the
Institute, and to announce the lectures and other exercises of
the ensuing day.
Voted, That the Clergymen of Boston and the vicinity,
and the editors of newspapers and other periodicals, be invited
(through the papers) to attend the present session of the Insti-
tute.
Voted, That Messrs J. Abbott, G. F. Thayer, F. Emer-
son and P. Mackintosh of Boston, B. F. Farnsworth of Provi-
dence, W. H. Brooks of Salem, and J. Fairbank of Charles-
town, be a Committee to nominate individuals for the officers of
the Institute for the current year.
Voted, That Mr G. F. Thayer be a Committee to intro-
duce the Rev. Mr Young of Boston, the officiating clergyman,
into the Institute.
X JOURNAL OF PROCEEDINGS.
Voted, That the Committee of Arrangements be authorised
to employ one or more reporters to take the discussions and ex-
tempore lectures, should there be any during the Session.
At twenty minutes before twelve o'clock, after prayer offered
by the Rev. Mr Young, the Introductory Address was delivered
by the Hon. Caleb Cushing* of Nevvburyport, on "The pro-
per Uses of Education ;" after which the Institute adjourned,
to meet at three o'clock, P. M.
Aug. 21. — Afternoon.
The Institute came to order at twenty minutes past three
o'clock. Mr Carter of Lancaster in the chair.
Voted, That the Committee of Arrangements provide some
suitable place for the meeting of the Institute for discussions in
the evening, and that the doors be open to all who may wish to
attend.
At half past three o'clock, a lecture was delivered by the
Rev. Warren Burton of Hingham, Mass. on " The best Me-
thod of fixing the Attention of the Young."
The Committee of Nomination reported a list of names for
officers of the Institute, which they were directed to have print-
ed, for the use of the members.
At half past five o'clock, the Rev. Dr Beecher, President of
the Lane Theological Seminary, in Ohio, delivered a lecture
(extempore) on " The State of Education, and Wants of the
West."
After the lecture, Dr B. answered numerous questions relative
to " the West," proposed to him by members of the Institute.
At half past six, the Institute adjourned, to meet atChauncy
Hall at half past seven in the evening.
Chauncy Hall. — Evening.
The Institute met according to adjournment. Mr J. G. Carter
in the chair. After a few introductory remarks, the follow-
ing question was discussed until a late hour. " Has the multi-
* General Mercer of Virgini,i was expected to liave given the address,
but from unexpected circumstances was prevented from visiting Boston tliis
season. Mr Cushing was invited but a few days previous to the meeting of
the Institute.
JOURNAL OF PROCEEDINGS. XI
plication of school books on the same subject, been beneficial
to the interests of Education?" — Adjourned to meet at the Rep-
resentatives' Hall, at half past eight, tomorrow morning.
Friday, Aug. 22.
The Institute came to order at half past eight, A. M. Mr J.
G. Carter in the chair.
Dr Beecher, in compliance with the request of many mem-
bers of the Institute, made last evening, was present this morning,
and the questions (which were interrupted by the adjournment
last evening) were resumed. To numerous inquiries relative to
" the West," the Doctor gave prompt and satisfactory an-
swers.
Voted, That the thanks of the Institute be presented to
the Rev. Dr Beecher, for his interesting statements relative to
"the West."
Voted, That any person who has been a member of the
Institute more than one year, be allowed to invite two friends to
the Lectures, the present session.
Voted, To reconsider the preceding vote, to afford oppor-
tunity to those opposed, to discuss the subject.
On renewal of the original motion.
Voted, That it be indefinitely postponed.
At half past nine o'clock, Dr William Grigg of Boston, de-
livered a lecture on " Physical Education," in the course of
which Dr G. exhibited several pieces of apparatus, prepared
under his direction.
At twenty minutes past eleven o'clock, Mr F. Emerson of Bos-
ton, proposed for discussion at this time, the following question,
viz. " Can Common Schools be conducted profitably, without
the aid of bodily Punishment?" which was adopted, and the
discussion opened by the gentleman who proposed it. Mr Emer-
son was arrested in the course of his remarks, by the arrival of
the hour (half past eleven) assigned for a lecture on " The Im-
provement of Common Schools," by Rev. Stephen Farley,
of Amesbury, Mass., who was substituted for Dr Keagy of
Philadelphia, prevented by indisposition from fulfilling his en-
gagement.
XII JOURNAL OF PROCEEDINGS.
After the lecture by Mr Farley,
Voted, To proceed to the election of officers of the Insti-
tute for the current year, tomorrow, immediately after the second
lecture.
The discussion on *' Bodily Punishment" was then resumed,
and sustained with much animation, by Mr F. Emerson, Rev.
Mr Wright of Newbury, Mr Kimball of Needham, Mr Ryder
of Boston, Mr Alcott of Germantown, and Mr Tenny of Ando-
ver. Most of the speakers maintained the negative of the ques-
tion.
Mr F. Emerson of Boston, proposed the following resolutions,
which after a few remarks were, by vote, laid upon the table.
Resolved, That the school system of Massachusetts re-
quires legislative revision : therefore
Resolved, That the Legislature should be composed of a
suitable portion of members, whose occupation has rendered
them familiar with Common Schools.
At a few minutes past one, adjourned, to meet at three, P.M.
Aug. 22. — Afternoon.
The Institute came to order at a few minutes after three
o'clock. Mr Carter in the chair.
L. Mason, Esq. delivered to a large audience a very interest-
ing lecture, on " Music, as a Branch of School Instruction, and
the Pestalozzian Method of teaching it," illustrated by a juve-
nile choir.
Moved and Voted, That the lecture by the Rev. Mr Carll,
which was to have been delivered at half past five this afternoon,
be postponed till tomorrow.
The following was submitted by Mr Thayer, and adopted:
Resolved, That the introduction of Vocal Music into our
Schools, is an object of high importance to the community, and
the American Institute of Instruction do hereby most cordially
recommend it to public favor.
Moved by Mr Thayer, and Voted, That in consequence of
the almost exclusive applicability to parents, of the subject of
the first two lectures tomorrow morning, every member of the In-
stitute be authorised, for that day only, to introduce one person,
who is a parent, to the lectures tomorrow.
JOURNAL OF PROCEEDINGS. Xlll
Moved hy Mr Pike, and Voted, That the number of invi-
tations be extended to two parents, by each member (instead of
one) as in the preceding vote.
At half past six, the Institute adjourned, to meet at half past
seven this evening, at Chauncy Hall.
Chauncy Hall. — Evening.
The Institute came to order at a quarter before eight o'clock.
Professor Griscom of Providence, in the chair.
The subject for discussion was, " The utility and inutility
of pictures in books and publications, designed for children."
The discussion was commenced by Mr Alcott, of German-
town, (warmly in favor of pictures) and continued with deep
interest for two hours, by Mr Wright of Newbury, Mr G. Brown
of New York, H. W. Carter of Boston, A. Greenleaf of Salem,
Dr W. A. Alcott of Boston, A. W. Pike of Boston, and Dr T.
P. Jones of Washington, D. C. The last two strongly in the
negative.
The discussion was closed by some pertinent remarks from
the distinguished gentleman in the chair.
During the discussion, the merits of pictures (as was the in-
tention of the Committee of Arrangements,) as we have them
in books, &c. and not as they might he, were more particularly
considered.
At ten o'clock, adjourned to half past eight tomorrow morning.
Saturday, Aug. 23.
The Institute met at the Representatives' Hall, and came to
order a few minutes before nine. Mr J. G. Carter in the chair.
The minutes of yesterday were read.
At a quarter past nine o'clock a lecture was delivered to a
large audience, by the Rev. Jacob Abbott of Boston, on " The
Duties of Parents in Respect to the Schools where their Children
are instructed."
On motion of Mr G. F. Thayer,
Voted, That Mr Abbott be requested to furnish the Institute
with a copy of his lecture just delivered, for immediate publica-
tion, and that ten thousand copies be printed with the least pos-
sible delay, to be disposed of at the discretion of the4nstitute.
XIV JOURNAL OF PROCEEDINGS.
At twenty five minutes after ten, the Rev. M. M. Carll of
Philadelphia, delivered a lecture on " Maternal Instruction, and
the Management of Infant Schools."
After a recess of five minutes, at twelve o'clock, Dr J. V. C.
Smith of Boston, delivered a lecture (extempore) on " The
Mechanism and Philosophy of the Organs of Sense :" illustrated
by apparatus, exhibiting the several parts of the Ear.
At one o'clock, the Institute proceeded to the election of of-
ficers for the year, when the list reported by the Committee of
Nomination was sustained, and the following gentlemen elected.
PRESIDENT OF THE INSTITUTE.
Hon. William B. Calhoun, Springfield, Mass
VICE PRESIDENTS.
Andrew S. Yates, Chittenango, N. Y.
Roberts Vaux, Philadelphia, Penn.
William C. Fowler, Middlebury, Vt.
Benjamin Abbot, Exeter, N. H.
John Pierpont, Boston, Mass.
Asa Rand, Lowell, Mass.
James G. Carter, Lancaster, Mass.
Walter R. Johnson, Philadelphia, Penn.
Benjamin D. Emerson, Roxbury, Mass.
Elipha White, John's Island, S. C.
George B. fmerson, Boston, Mass.
Ebenezer Bailey, Boston, Mass.
Henry K. Oliver, Salem, Mass.
Caleb Cushing, Newburyport, Mass.
Frederick Hall, Baltimore, Md.
Samuel W. Seton, New- York City, N. Y.
John Griscom, Providence, R. I.
Lyman Beecher, Cincinnati, Ohio.
Daniel Kimball, Needham, Mass.
Nehemiah Cleaveland, Newbury, Mass.
Stephen C. Phillips, Salem, Mass.
RECORDING SECRETARY.
Alfred W. Pike, Boston, Mass.
JOURNAL OF PROCEEDINGS. XV
CORRESPONDING SECRETARIES.
Solomon P. Miles, Boston, Mass.
William C. Woodbridge, Boston, Mass.
TREASURER.
Richard B. Carter, Boston, Mass.
CURATORS.
Peter Mackintosh, Boston, Mass.
William H. Spear, Roxbury, Mass.
Henry W. Carter, Boston, Mass.
Jacob Abbott, Boston, Mass.
Ethan A. Andrews, do. do.
Gideon F. Thayer, do. do.
COUNSELLORS.
William J. Adams, New-York City, N. Y.
William Russell, Germantown, Penn.
William Forrest, New- York City, N. Y.
John Kingsbury, Providence, R. I.
Abraham Andrews, Boston, Mass.
Alfred Greenleaf, Salem, Mass.
Benjamin Greenleaf, Bradford, Mass.
Richard G. Parker, Boston, "
William H. Brooks, Salem, "
Frederick Emerson, Boston, "
Benjamin F. Farnsworth, Providence, R. I.
Josiah Fairbank, Boston, Mass.
At half past one, the Institute adjourned to three o'clock P. M.
Aug. 23. — Afternoon.
The Institute came to order at three o'clock. Mr Carter in
the chair.
Messrs Thayer of Boston, Adams of New York, and Cleave-
land of Newbury, were appointed a Committee to carry into ef-
fect the vote for publishing ten thousand copies of Mr Abbott's
lecture.
XVi JOURNAL OF PROCEEDINGS.
At a quarter past three o'clock, Dr Smith delivered the
second part of his lecture, on " The Mechanism &c. of the
Organs of Sense," illustrating the eye, by ingenious apparatus
of his own invention, as in the forenoon.
At half past four o'clock, Mr Thomas Sherwin of Boston,
delivered a lecture on " Teaching the Elements of Mathemat-
ics," illustrating his own method, by a class of boys in Algebra.
After the lecture, the Institute proceeded to business.
On motion of Mr Thayer,
Voted, That the Treasurer be authorised to employ agents
to collect the sums due the Institute from members, for their
annual assessments.
Voted, That the Treasurer, or his substitute, be requested
to be present, with his book in the Hall, during the session of
the Institute.
At six o'clock, adjourned, to meet at half past seven, at
Chauncy Hall.
Chauncy Hall. — Evening.
At half past seven, the Institute met, according to adjourn-
ment. Mr Pettis of Boston in the chair.
Subject for discussion : " The Expediency of endeavoring
to induce Children to regard their Studies as an Amusement,
rather than a Labor."
Messrs De Witt of Providence, Alcott of Boston, Rev. Mr
Swift of Falmouth, Alcott of Germantown, Professor Farnsworth,
and Clark of Providence, took part in the discussion, which af-
ter occupying about an hour, was indefinitely postponed, and the
question of Friday evening resumed, " The Utility and Inutility
of pictures &,c." and sustained by Dr Alcott of Boston, Professor
Farnsworth, and others until ten o'clock, when the Institute ad-
journed until half past eight on Monday morning.
Monday, Aug. 25.
The Institute came to order at a quarter past nine, A. M. Mr
J. Abbott in the chair.
The minutes of Saturday were read. Mr Thayer from the
Committee of publication of Mr Abbott's lecture, reported pro-
gress.
JOURNAL OF PROCEEDINGS. XVll
On motion of Mr Pettis of Boston,
Voted, That each member of the Institute and all female
teachers present, be allowed to take gratuitously, five copies of
Mr Abbott's lecture, and if they desire them, one hundred
copies for one dollar, and that they be requested to signify to
the Treasurer, the number of copies, that they may wish to re-
ceive.
Moved by Mr Thayer, That, the members and others pre-
sent, be requested to state to the Treasurer, as early as may
be, the number of copies of the forthcoming volume of the
Transactions of the Institute, they will take.
Voted, To lay the preceding motion on the table.
At a quarter before ten o'clock, Dr A. A. Gould of Boston,
lectured on " Natural History as a Study for the Young."
At a quarter before eleven o'clock, Rev. H, Winslow of Bos-
ton, delivered a lecture on " The Danger of unsafe and useless
Innovations, and the Indications of any Tendency to this Evil
in our Country."
After the lecture, the Institute proceeded to business. Mr J.
G. Carter in the chair.
The report of the Board of Directors was offered, and read
from the chair, and accepted by the Institute, with directions
that it be printed in the volume of the doings of the Institute.
Moved hy Mr Abbott, That as the volume of the doings
of the Institute cannot be published except at considerable and
increasing expense to the Institute, and as the circulation of it
is very limited, notwithstanding all the efforts that have been
made to promote it, therefore,
Resolved, That the Censors be instructed to discontinue
the publication of the Annual Transactions of the Institute,
which was amended (as moved by Mr Wright) by striking out
all after the word Resolved, and substituting, " That a Commit-
tee of five be appointed to consider the means of procuring and
circulating the Annual Volume of the doings of the Institute,"
which was adopted, and the following gentlemen appointed the
Committee ; viz. Messrs Carter of Lancaster, Abbott, Sherwin,
Thayer, and Pettis of Boston.
Xviii JOURNAL OF PROCEEDINGS.
At one o'clock, the Institute adjourned to three, P. M.
Aug. 25. — Afternoon.
At three o'clock, the Institute met. Mr J. G. Carter in the
chair ; when a lecture was delivered by Dr T. C. Jackson of
Boston, on " Chemistry and its Uses."
At four o'clock, the Institute adjourned, to meet at half past
seven in the evening, at Chauncy Hall.
Channel/ Hall. — Evening.
The Institute met by adjournment, at half past seven at
Chauncy Hall. Mr J. G. Carter in the chair.
The following rule was proposed by Mr Pettis of Boston, and
adopted by the Institute — " That no speaker be allowed to hold
the floor, longer than ten minutes at one time, and but once
upon the same subject, to the exclusion of any member, who
may wish to speak upon the subject under discussion."
Mr Alcott of Germantown, laid on the table, an essay on
" Moral Instruction," written by Miss Robbinsof Hartford, Conn.
with the intention of presenting it to the Institute ; which was
by vote, referred to the Censors, to be disposed of at their dis-
cretion.
The Secretary also laid on the table, an essay written by Mrs
Hay ward of South Boston, for the Institute, which was referred
as the above.
The following subject was then adopted, for discussion : viz.
" The Use and Abuse of Recommendations, in Reference to
Subjects connected with Education."
Mr Greenleaf of Salem, opened the discussion, and was fol-
lowed by Messrs Carter and Mackintosh of Boston, Wright of
Newbury, Blanchard of Vermont, Pettis, Emerson, and Dr
Alcott of Boston, Messrs Clark and Farnsworthof Providence,
Goold Brown of New York, and Rev. Mr Allen of Northbo-
rough.
As the discussion was about being closed, Mr G. Brown of
New York, offered the following resolves.
Resolved, That the public mind has been, and continues
JOURNAL OF PROCEEDINGS. XIX
to be, abundantly and shamefully abused, by the facility, with
which our great men are in the habit of lending their names to
certificates of recommendation for books and teachers : there-
fore.
Resolved, That this Institute do recommend to all gentle-
men, who are applied to for such favors, to read thoroughly
and attentively the Books which they recommend, and to state
only what they may personally know of the individuals, who
offer themselves as applicants for testimonials.
After some remarks by several individuals, it was moved by
the Secretary, " that the subject before the Institute for discus-
sion, and the resolutions submitted by Mr Brown, be indefinitely
postponed," which motion was sustained, and at ten o'clock, the
Institute adjourned, to meet at the Representatives' Hall at half
past eight, on Tuesday morning.
Tuesday Morning, Aug. 26.
The Institute came to order at half past nine o'clock. Rev.
E. White, of John's Island, S. C, in the chair.
Voted, On motion of Mr Pettis of Boston, " That the
Committee appointed to superintend the publication of Mr Ab-
bott's lecture, be requested to publish a notice of the lecture in
the papers of the city."
Two " resolves" relative to " recommendations" introduced
by Mr Wright of Newbury, were referred to a Committee, con-
sisting of Mr Wright, Messrs Sherwin of Boston, and Farns-
worth of Providence, to report thereon.
At ten minutes after ten o'clock, Hon. Judge Story of Cam-
bridge, delivered a lecture to a very full house, on " The Science
of Government as a Branch of Popular Education."
At a quarter past eleven o'clock, Dr C. Follen of Cambridge,
lectured (mostly extempore) on "The Study of History, and
the best Mode of prosecuting it."
The Committee appointed to consider the resolves, submitted
by the Rev. Mr Wright of Newbury, reported the following,
which were adopted.
Resolved, That this Institute regard the indiscriminate re-
XX JOURNAL OF PROCEEDINGS.
commendation of teachers and school books as highly detrimen-
tal to the interests of Education.
Resolved, That we earnestly request all, to whom applica-
tion may be made for recommendation, to exercise great caution
and decision in regard to this subject.
Mr J. G. Carter, from the Committee appointed to devise
means for procuring, and circulating the volume of the Annual
doings of the Institute, made the following report.
Resolved, That the publication of the Lectures annually
delivered before the American Institute of Instruction, in a
volume for each year, tends to promote the objects of the Insti-
tute, by collecting in a convenient form, for distant information
and future reference, a body of the .fundamental principles of
the science, as well as a mass of practical details in the art of
Education, highly useful, if not essential to put inquirers upon
the subject, in possession of the state and progress of that science
and art in our country.
Resolved, That the publication of the several lectures, se-
parately, would also tend to promote the objects of the Insti-
tute, by enabling the members and the public at large to receive
information of our Transactions more speedily ; and by enabling
the friends of Education to circulate particular parts of our do-
ings, with special reference to enlightening, and stimulating the
public mind in those respects, in which it most needs our efforts :
therefore,
Resolved, That the Board of Censors be authorized and
instructed, to procure the publication of the Transactions of the
present session, both in the form of a volume, and in separate
parts, on the best terms and in the most speedy manner the na-
ture of the publication will allow.
The following was proposed as an amendment by Mr Abbott:
Resolved, That the Censors be authorized to draw on the
Treasurer for such a sum, not exceeding however ( ) as
may be necessary to carry the foregoing resolutions into effect.
Moved by Mr Pike, That the blank be filled with the sum
of One Hundred and Fifty Dollars, which was voted, and the
JOURNAL OF PROCEEDINGS. XXI
report submitted by Mr Carter, as amended by Mr Abbott, was
accepted.
At half past one o'clock, the Institute adjourned, to meet at
half past three, P. M.
Aug. 26. — Afternoon.
At half past three o'clock, the Institute met, agreeably to ad-
journment. Mr J, G. Carter in the chair.
Dr W. A. Alcottof Boston, submitted the following resolves,
which were passed.
Resolved, That in view of the importance of the subjects
discussed by Dr Grigg, in his lecture before this Institute, it is
hereby recommended to every teacher, to become intimately ac-
quainted with the principles of Physical Education.
Resolved, That the American Institute of Instruction re-
gard with deep interest, the rapid increase of kindred institu-
tions in this country, especially at the South and West, and de-
sire to take this method of expressing their hearty thanks, for
the cooperation of their brethren in the great cause of Instruc-
tion and Education.
Mr Clark of Providence, submitted the following resolution :
Resolved, That the introduction of a perfect alphabet of
the English language is practicable, and would be of great and
lasting benefit to those, who speak the language, and that the
subject is eminently worthy the immediate attention of the
American Institute of Instruction.
Mr Abbott of Boston, proposed to amend, by striking out all
after the word Resolved, and substituting, " To submit to the
Committee of Arrangements, to be adopted or not, at their op-
tion, for discussion at the next annual meeting of the Institute,
the question, " Is it practicable to effect any reform in the alpha-
bet of the English language?" The amendment was sustained,
and the resolution adopted.
At half past four o'clock, Dr J. Barbkr of Cambridge, gave a
lecture on " Phrenology, as connected with Education." After
which a discussion took place upon the subject of the lecture,
which was continued until half past six o'clock, when the Insti-
Xxii JOURNAL OF PROCEEDINGS.
tute adjourned, to meet at half past seven this evening, at
Chauncy Hall.
Chauncy Hall. — Evening.
At half past seven, the Institute met, according to adjourn-
ment. Mr Carter in the chair.
On motion of the Secretary, the rule adopted on Monday
evening, restricting the speakers to ten minutes, dtc. wblS by
vote adopted for this evening.
The discussion on Phrenology, commenced in the afternoon,
was resumed and continued with much animation, before a nu-
merous and deeply interested audience, for more than two hours.
Mr Blanchard of Vermont, commenced the discussion, in op-
position to Phrenology, and was followed by Mr Pettis of Boston,
in favor of that science. Mr G. Brown of New York, followed
in the negative, charging the Phrenologist as necessarily favor-
ing materialism, and was replied to by Dr Barber, with much
engagedness. Messrs Capen and Carter of Boston, also spoke
in favor of Phrenology.
Mr Carter from the chair, and the Secretary proposed ques-
tions for information, to which Dr Barber and Mr Capen replied.
After the close of the discussion, Mr J. G. Carter, from the
chair addressed the Institute in a few pertinent, parting remarks ;
when, on the thanks of the Institute being expressed by vote to
the Vice President (Mr Carter) in the chair, and to the Secre-
tary, for their prompt and faithful discharge of their respective
duties, during the present session, the Institute adjourned, siue
die.
ALFRED W. PIKE, Rec. Sec'y.
Boston, Aug. 26, 1834.
ANNUAL REPORT.
The Directors, in obedience to the fifth section of the fifth
article of the Constitution, ask leave to submit to the " Ameri-
can Institute of Instruction" the following Annual Report,
An examination of the records and evidencesof our domestic
correspondence, enables us to bear testimony to the fidelity of
the Secretaries in the discharge of the several duties, pertain-
ing to their respective offices.
The report of the Curators, although it presents no facts or
suggestions, which demand special notice in a general view of
the operations of the Institute during the year, yet gives as-
surance that that Board has been attentive to the interests
intrusted to them, in the superintendence of the room of the So-
ciety and in the care, arrangement, and gradual enlargement of
the library. The Directors avail themselves of this opportunity
to make known to the members of the Institute generally, that
the room belonging to them at the corner of School and Wash-
ington Streets, is open to them at all times during the year, as
well as during the week of their anniversary session. The room
has been conveniently furnished for our purposes ; and by the
liberality of publishers and authors, as well as from the funds of
the Society, a large collection of the modern and most approved
school books has been made. To these have been added several
of the leading Periodicals of this and foreign countries, and
some standard works on the philosophy of mind. This is but a
small beginning, it is true, but still it is a beginning of an estab-
lishment, which the Directors hope their means will, at some
XXIV re;port to the institute.
future time, allow them to enlarge and render still more attractive.
The object of the Directors in incurring the expense of this
establishment was, to afford a convenient place of resort for a
jeisure hour or two to all members of the Institute, whenever
their business or inclination might bring them to this city. It
was supposed that the collection of new school books and aj>-
paratus there collected, and to be collected, and the hope of
meeting those engaged in similar pursuits, and having similar in-
terests, would prove sufficiently attractive to make the Institute's
room the school-master's exchange. It is confidently hoped
and believed that members of the Institute, from a distance es-
pecially, will not neglect the opportunity here afforded, to pos-
sess themselves of information of some of the improvements of
our times, to extend their acquaintance with one another, and
exchange views upon the various topics of common interest and
sympathy. And thus the hopes of the Directors will be realized,
the interests of the profession be promoted, and the great cause
of education be sensibly advanced.
The Report of the Treasurer has also been laid before us. By
this it appears that the balance in the Treasury at the commence-
ment of the year was, - - - - $3I3,55i
There has been received from the annual assess-
ment of members, ----- 65,00
From new members, ------ 45,00
Tickets sold to individuals not members, - - 17,00
Making an aggregate amount of, - - - $440,55^
The drafts paid by order of the Committee of
Finance amount to - - . - . 176,75
Leaving a balance of $263,80i
Thus it appears that the expenditures of the year exceed the
receipts of the year by the sum of - - - $49,75
Although, in itself considered, it is alvrays a discouraging
circumstance in any enterprise to note a declining treasury, yet
the Directors are happy to find that the deficit in this case, has
not arisen from causes wholly beyond the control of the mem-
REPORT TO THE INSTITUTE. XXV
bers. There is much more than enough to cover the deficit of
the year, yet due from members as their annual assessment. In
the expenditures of the year, is also included the sum of $50
which has been paid out to encourage the publication of the last
volume of Transactions. But this by the contract of the Cen-
sors with our publishers, will be paid back to the Treasury when-
ever the sales of the volume shall have covered the expenses of
its publication. The Directors have a hope that the time is not
far distant, when the objects of the Institute will become so well
known in the community, and the intrinsic merit of their Trans-
actions be really so great and so generally acknowledged, that
their publications shall cease to be an outlet from the Treasury,
and perhaps the current be turned the other way.
The Directors are happy to bear testimony to the zeal, and
fidelity of the Board of Censors, in the discharge of the arduous
duties devolving upon them. Our annual volume has been pub-
lished as promptly, we are persuaded, as the nature of the case,
with even their untiring efforts, would allow. The Censors in
regard to the price of our annual volume, and the despatch with
which they can publish it, labor under many intrinsic difficulties,
which should take away all surprise, if they do not abo take
away the regret at delay. They are expected to publish a
handsome volume, which the community at large show no great
desire to purchase, at a price less than the common one for
such a volume, and yet, not to burden our Treasury. And they
are expected to be prompt in a publication which depends for its
parts upon the promptness of perhaps twenty different men, in
different and distant parts of the country. Here, it will be per-
ceived is an accumulation of contingencies, made up of the con-
venience of the several lecturers, to prepare their manuscripts for
the^ press, and the casualties incident to a transmission of them
from a distance, in addition to the almost endless slight delays
in the mechanical execution. Any one of these contingencies
turning out unfavorably, causes delay in the whole volume. We
trust these, with other circumstances, which will readily occur
to the Institute, will be sufficient to excuse any apparent delin-
D
XXVI REPORT TO THE INSTITUTE.
quency heretofore, as well as prevent too sanguine expectations of
promptness in our publications for the future.
In conclusion, the Directors find much in the history of the
association to encourage them to renewed efforts. The increase
of members during the year, — the general attendance of a large
number of them at the anniversary meeting, and the numerous
assembly of female teachers and mothers, constantly present at
our exercises, are circumstances calculated to inspire confidence
that the Institute is accomplishing the objects of its projectors ;
and answering the hopes of its friends ; that it is elevating the
character of the profession, is diff*using correct principles of the
science, and making known improved practices in the art of
education, and thus in one very important respect especially
advancing the best interests of society and of men.
By order of the Directors,
James G. Carter.
Representatives' Hall, Aug. 1834.
NOTE BY THE CENSORS.
The Censors of the Institute regret the late appearance of
this volume, and offer as their apology, the fact, that a series of
untoward circumstances has baffled all their efforts to present
it at an earlier day. — They would also state, that copies of
seven of the Lectures delivered the last year, and intended for
the volume, could not be procured ; they having been partially
or wholly unwritten. One of them, however, may be expected
for the next volume.
They would also state, in behalf of the American Institute
of Instruction, that it does not hold itself responsible for any
sentiments contained in the Lectures of this or any other of its
volumes. The Lecturers express their own opinions, and if
they sometimes clash, the result may be, to elicit more truth.
Boston, May, 1835.
INTRODUCTORY LECTURE
BY CALEB GUSHING
INTRODUCTORY LECTURE.
Owing to the absence of the distinguished individual,
(General Mercer of Virginia,) who was destined to fill this
place on this occasion, the Directors of the Institute have
imposed on me the duty of delivering the Introductory
Discourse of the present year. This event is, in every
point of view, matter of regret : because, while it deprives
the opening of the session of its anticipated interest, and
renders it necessary to substitute, in lieu of a more elaborate
discourse, one prepared with but brief space for meditation
or composition, — it interferes, at the same time, with a
favorite and most valuable object of the Institute.
In the foundation of this society, as of every one having
extensive purposes of intellectual or moral usefulness in
view, the concentration of thoughts and efforts from divers
quarters, and the combination of minds of various disci-
pline, is an all essential principle. A characteristic trait of
the European stock, whether in Europe or America, as it
cannot but be perceived and admitted, is advancement, pro-
gression, improvement, change in the hope and prospect of
a better condition. And this not so much on the part of
governments, — which, in all times and places, more fre-
quently resist than favor change, because the depositaries of
power naturally clings to their own tenure of it, — but on the
4 MR CUSHINGS
part of the individual members of society, who in solitary
meditation search out hidden truths, — maxims of ethics,
economy and legislation, — facts in the physical sciences, —
processes or instruments appertaining to the useful arts, —
and who apply the discoveries or inventions thus made to
the melioration and civilization of the world. And how is
this end reached ? Occasionally, there enters upon the scene
of life a man of transcendent intellect, who, lighting upon a
happy combination of circumstemces, or rather placed in it
by an all-seeing and all-disposing power, changes the whole
face of things by the leviathan force of one mind ; — some
Bacon or Newton, who creates philosophy anew, — some
Arkwright, Whitney, Fulton, Senefelder, Perkins, Davy,
who, as with a touch of the enchanter's wand of genius,
gives being or impulse to a great department of knowledge
or art, — some Gregory, Luther, or Calvin, who in the
seclusion of his cabinet plans and accompUshes the refor-
mation of whole nations, — some Charlemagne or Napoleon,
who revolutionizes Christendom. But these are not the
ordinary cases of human efficiency. In the every-day
course of affairs, in the bounded circle wherein most men
are destined to move, it is by the combination of their joint
efforts, — it is by the formation of voluntary societies, made
up of the means, time, and talents, of persons compara-
tively feeble in the solitary individual, but strong in the
aggregate body, — it is thus that so much of excellent and
useful is effected in the social system of Europe and America.
Time would fail, in seeking to recount the multitude of
societies, — moral, scientific, hterary, religious, pohtical, —
scattered all over the great commonwealth of the civilized
nations of Christendom. The famous fraternities of chiv-
alry in the time of the Crusades were examples of them
pertinent to that age ; as were the associations for the sup-
pression of vice and crime in the Spanish Peninsula, called
the Holy Brotherhood, at a later period. In our own time,
INTRODUCTORY LECTURE. 6
objects of art, literature, morals, or politics, are their ac-
customed aim. Multitudinous as they are, it would be
strange if some of them were not wrong in principle or per-
verted in their application. But their usefulness in the main
seems indisputable ; at least there are no arguments adverse
to them in the general, saving such as tend to suppress the
propagation of knowledge or the cultivation of virtue, and
in effect strike at the very foundations of social union. In
simple truth, let me reiterate, they are the means, whereby
all of us, however humble be our condition, may participate
in great designs, which must otherwise devolve exclusively
on pre-eminent wealth, ability, or power. This, moreover,
is the answer to so much " bald unjointed chat," which is
abroad among us, to the prejudice of corporate enterprises of
usefulness or gain ; for, as with joint efforts of mind, so with
corporate investments of property ; they do but enable men
of moderate capitals to share in great undertakings ; and
therein lies their signal advantage for a country of enter-
prising inhabitants and unexhausted resources like the
United States.
In the wide range of topics proper to the occasion, there
is one, which passing events and pending discussions have
served to force upon the attention, as peculiarly opportune
to the character and objects of the Institute. What are
the true uses of Instruction ? How much and how little of
good or of evil does Education accomplish ? What are the
limits of social or individual benefit, on the one hand, —
what are, on the other, the hazards of injurious operation, —
appertaining to the reciprocal influence of mind over mind ?
All animated things about us are instinct with the love
of knowledge ; colleges, schools, lyceums, associations for
the dissemination of learning, abound ; to possess and cul-
tivate the liberal and useful arts, — in a word. Instruction,
is the distinguishing quality of a state of civilization, a« to
6 MR CUSHING'S
neglect or be without it is the familiar indication of low
and brutish barbarism. Ignorance, it is tritely said,
" Ignorance is the curse of God,
Knowledge the wings with which we fly to heaven."
Is this true ? Is knowledge identical with virtue ? And
if it be not, what are the quaUfications needed, to reduce
the popular estimation of Instruction to a just standard?
Grant that the neglect or absence of Instruction be
rightly deemed the characteristic of a state of barbarism :
is not a highly cultivated society prone to form an exagger-
ated conception of the value, or an erroneous judgment of
the ends, of Instruction ?
Understand me : I am not about to lend myself to the
poor paradox, that the propagation of knowledge tends to
corrupt the morals of a community, to give new virulence
to vice, and augment the commission of crime. On the
contrary, I propose to illustrate what seems to me the true
answer to such depraved opinions, by discrimination of the
genuine uses of Instruction. Most readers are aware of
the controversy excited in France by the doctrine of
Rousseau's celebrated prize-essay, to the effect that the
re-estabhshment of science and art had proved prejudicial
to the moral purity of modern Europe ; nay, more, that it
was essentially in the nature of knowledge to check the
growth of virtue. However learnedly or ingeniously this
position was maintained, it failed, of course, to gain foot-
hold in society. Pyrrho might prove the non-existence of
matter ; Berkley and Hume might tread in a similar path of
metaphysical subtilty ; still, as in their case, so in that of
Rousseau, common sense revolted from the absurdity of
their conclusions by whatever plausible reasoning attciined.
To believe that savage life was better or happier than civil-
ized ; to persuade men to abandon the refined enjoyments
and elevated occupations of civiUzation, and betake them-
INTRODUCTORY LECTURE. 7
selves to the mere sensual existence of the man of the
woods, — was of course impossible ; and this extreme view
of the subject passed off, as it well might, for the misguided
ingenuity of a " self-torturing sophist." But then came
another idea equally chimerical, that of the perfectibility of
the social system through the agency of mind upon mind,
as argued by Condorcet. This doctrine, also, had its day ;
and while thinkers are settling down in the conviction that
change and vicissitude are the lot of nations as of men,
they are in general equally convinced of the capacity of
nations, and of men composing them, for an undefined,
though not an infinite, degree of improvement, through the
instrumentality of Instruction.
And to supply an obvious deficiency in.ihe old European
system, which, by reason of the limited number of places of
education, admitted to them only the rich and great, or
rather only the favored few, — the prevalent aim of our
time, and especially our country, has been to render the
advantages of knowledge accessible to the universal people.
Common schools, supported by the rich for the elementary
instruction of the poor, we have been accustomed to esteem
as among the peculiar excellences of our institutions, espe-
cially in the Northern States. From Germany, where it so
generally obtains, this pervading universality of education
was recently adopted by France. Since the new infusion
of democratic influence into the government of Great
Britain, in that country, also, the expediency of it has come
up for consideration ; but there its introduction is encounter-
ed in Parliament with plausible facts, urged prominently by
an individual, who is himself a striking example of per-
verted talents, and of the insufficiency of knowledge to
communicate virtue. Cobbett's opinion seems to differ
from Rousseau's in this: — While Rousseau, with indis-
criminate and consistent zeal, affirmed the inutility, or
rather injurious quality, of science and art in the general,
8 MR CUSHING'S
and to the whole society, — Cobbett, with characteristic in-
consistency, reforming, radical, and plebeian as he professes
to be, raised as he is by the upUfting energies of cultiva-
ted Mind from the humblest condition of hfe, and exulting
as he does that his advice has contributed to reduce thou-
sands of the people of a civilized and Christian country
from affluence or competency to want, for imputed aristoc-
racy of character, like Eratosthenes beside the blackened
masses of Diana's temple glorying in perpetual infamy, or
like Satan rejoicing with such joy as devils can feel, and as
they only can feel, over the expulsion of our first parents
from Eden, — this man would confine the fruits of learning
to the rich and high-born alone, excluding the laborious and
the poor from all access to the blessed fountains of know-
ledge and of life. It is the confutation of this iniquitous
theory, so totally at war with all the settled maxims of our
national policy, and the confutation of it by plain and
practical considerations, which constitutes the chief object
of this discourse.
It is obvious at first blush, and therefore may as well be
stated at once as the solution of the whole difficulty, that
Cobbett, Hke Rousseau, mistakes the inadequacy of Instruc-
tion in certain of it& branches or forms to produce a given
result, for the quality of being essentially incompatible with
that result. As Lord Althorpe justly replied, he was argu-
ing, not of Education as it may and should be, but of bad
or defective Education. Doubtless a man may be taught
proficiency in crime. Besides, instruction in arithmetic or
chirography, in the art of painting or sculpture, will not
impart moral purity. How, indeed, should it? The
knowledge of geography is not the true perception of moral
truth. Granted. But are they inconsistent one with an-
other ? Does the acquisition of knowledge necessarily pre-
vent or check the acquisition of virtue ? That it does, and
this by the operation of a fixed law of nature, is the fallacy
at the bottom of all the sophistry in question.
K
INTRODUCTORY LECTURE. 9
Let me elucidate this point by analysing the elementary
parts of Instruction or Education. It is not unfrequently
distinguished, in a scientific use of terms, into physical, as
applied to the body, and moral, as appUed to the mind ;
but it may be more convenient at the present time, and
equally clear, to use the word moral in its popular sense, as
distinguished from intellectual. Instruction in seminaries of
education, it is apparent, is chiefly applied to the formation
of the mind, as thus contrasted with the character or moral
feelings ; to communicate sets of facts, processes of reason-
ing, arts, or accomplishments. But is not the character,
the aggregate of each one's opinions and principles, a por-
tion of the intellectual being of the man ? May not good
opinions, right principles, be imparted by instruction, as
well as the knowledge of historical facts, or skill in the ex-
ercise of a liberal art ? Not that our intellectual and moral
peculiarities are wholly the result of Education. Far from
it. Inborn differences in the force of the various capacities
and tendencies of men are the subject of every day's ob-
servation ; and to deny their existence is to reason against
the most familiar facts of life. But is there any ground to
maintain that, of these various capacities or tendencies,
those which belong to what are popularly known as charac-
ter or virtue, are any less susceptible of cultivation or de-
velopement than those which belong to the department of
genius or intellect ? Surely not. And yet the false opin-
ions under review presuppose that instruction is absolutely
limited to science, learning, and the arts. Those opinions
assume that moral culture is, and can be, no part of Educa-
tion.
It is curious to observe how the same questions recur
upon men from time to time ; and how continually we
travel over and retread anew the same field of dispute
in successive ages. That profound thinker, John Locke,
insisted, in his day, upon this capital object of Education,
2
10 MR CUSHING'S
moral cultivation. " It is virtue, then, direct virtue," he
says in his Thoughts concerning Education, " which is the
hard and valuable part to be aimed at in education, and not
a forward pertness, or any little arts of shifting. All other
considerations should give way and be postponed to this.
This is the solid and substantial good, which tutors should
not only read, lecture and talk of, but the labor and art of
education should furnish the mind with, and fasten there,
and never cease till the young man had a true reUsh of it
and placed his strength, his glory and his pleasure in it."
To the same effect is Lord Kames, who says, in his Hints
on Education : " It appears unaccountable that our teach-
ers, generally, have directed their instructions to the head,
with very little attention to the heart. From Aristotle
down to Locke, books without number have been compiled
for cultivating and improving the understanding, few in
proportion for cultivating and improving the affections."
And so Milton, also, in the very outset of his Letter on
Education, premises that, " The end, then, of learning is
to repair the ruin of our first parents, by inquiring to know
God aright, and out of that knowledge to love him, to imi-
tate him, to be like him, as we may the nearest, by possess-
ing our souls of true virtue, which, being united to the
heavenly grace of faith, makes up the highest perfection."
And these are the suggestions of the truest and most prac-
tical wisdom not less than of venerable names and exalted
authority : considerations, which have entirely escaped
those, who so much depreciate the uses of Instruction in
the improvement of society.
But let us examine the particular arguments for the new
theory of the injurious effects of popular education, as
given to us by its promulgator. Mr Roebuck introduced
into the House of Commons a motion for inquiry into the
means of establishing a system of National Education ;
which he carefully described as designed to cover moral
INTRODUCTORY LECTURE. 1 1
and religious, equally with intellectual, cultivation. Mr
Cobbett objected to the motion absolutely and unequivo-
cally, on account of, as he alleged, the injurious effects of
instruction upon the laboring classes ; and Lord Althorpe
rephed, defending the general object contemplated by Mr
Roebuck.*
In Mr Cobbett's remarks, we find four distinct proposi-
tions maintained, or suggested for consideration.
First, it is alleged that contemporaneously with the dif-
fusion of Education, crime has increased ; and thereupon it
is argued that Instruction has not been productive of any
good, but rather on the whole of evil, implying that it has
tended to produce the alleged increase of crime.
Secondly, it being stated that, of convicts in New York,
a majority are educated persons, by which is probably in-
tended persons possessed of elementary school instruction,
it is inferred that Education has done nothing toward pre-
venting crime in America.
Thirdly, it is urged that Instruction is calculated to in-
spire the poor with sentiments unsuited to their condition,
and thus to render them unfit for the laborious uses of life.
Fourthly, the expense to the community, in the time ab-
stracted from labor in the process of educating a child be-
longing to the laboring classes, is objected.
As to the last argument, it needs but a moment's con-
sideration : because, if education be intrinsically injurious
to the poor, it should be discarded for that cause, and there
is no occasion to inquire into the expense of imparting it ;
and if it be beneficial to them, then it is simply a question
whether the amount of benefit, either to the individual, or
to society through him, be suflScient to justify the expense.
In the latter alternative, we may justly tax the rich for the
education of the poor ; both on selfish principles, for the
* Extracts from the debate, June 3d, 1S24, as appended to this Discourse.
12 MR CUSHINGS
general security of society, and of the rich as the part of it
most needing protection ; and also on the same principle of
humanity, which dictates the estabUshment of penitentiaries
and hospitals at the public charge.
But the other considerations deserve to be maturely ex-
amined. If they be true, it is important for us, in this
country, to understand it ; because here popular education
obtains universally ; it is one of the favored means of
improving the people and sustaining our democratic in-
stitutions ; and if we are mistaken in this, we are indeed
fallen into a most fatal career of misgovernment. —
On the contrary, if they be not true, and if the errone-
ous beUef in them arises from a partial misconception of
the uses of Instruction, or imperfection in its forms, then it
behoves us to seek out and apply the proper remedy for the
evil. And therefore let us look at the details of the gen-
eral position, which is : that the education of the poor, by
rendering them discontented with their condition of hfe,
induces habits of idleness, or of indisposition to laborious
occupation, and so prompts to the commission of crime as
the means of subsistence.
Doubtless it is true that Education instils into men a de-
sire to rise above the condition of menial servants ; and the
gentry of England may have found the fathers of the last
generation better servants than their sons of the present
generation. But this effect naturally flows from every
cause, which tends to raise the condition of the poor. It
is occasioned, not more by the dissemination of knowledge
among them, which opens to them higher conceptions of
the ends of Ufe, and sentiments of personal independence,
than by the increase of wages connected with the pros-
perity of productive industry in any of its departments,
such as the profits of commerce or manufacture, and the
abundance and cheapness of lands. These circumstances
tend to soften the distinction between master and servant,
INTRODUCTORY LECTURE. 13
by facilitating the rise of the latter to personal respectability
and competency ; but they do not of themselves induce to
the commission of crime or immorality. Nay, on the other
hand, it is infirmity of character, which tends to throw per-
sons back into a secondary or dependent condition in life.
Then supposing it to be the fact in the case of England,
that intemperance, theft, and other descriptions of vice and
crime have increased among the poor within a few years, is
popular education the cause of the increase ? Clearly,
there is no necessary dependence of vice or crime upon
knowledge. And there is ample cause, independent of
that, for the prevalence of vice and crime in England at the
present time ; such as the long duration of peace, the low
price of labor, the overcrowded state of the population, the
weight of taxation, and the consequent difficulty of pro-
curing subsistence ; and above all, from the greater publicity
given to crime, and the greater care in bringing it to pun-
ishment, produced by the increasing diffusion of knowledge.
There is much reason to beheve it is the increase of crime
only in appearance, that is, of convictions, not of crimes,
which forms the subject of so much speculation and study
at the present time. And, if it were otherwise, instead of
arguing that Education had produced this state of things,
we would be disposed to argue that, but for education,
there would have been a still greater amount of crime and
immorality ; and that the real mischief was insufficiency in
the quantity, or imperfection in the quality, of the edu-
cation. True, Education has not prevented the perpetration
of crime. And why? Independently of the essential in-
firmity of everything human, is it not because of the
prevalent error, that instruction is the communication of
knowledge, rather than the promoter of virtuous character ?
That good character is necessarily to ensue in the cultiva-
tion of knowledge ?
Prior to the time, when the supposed increase of crimi-
14 MR CUSHING'S
nality in England attracted observation, the true state of the
case, — the evil and the remedy, — were briefly alluded to
in the very useful book on the Police of London, as follows :
" Knowledge, so far as it refers to human actions, teaches
to discern good from evil, and obviously directs and induces
us, from self-love, to seek the one and avoid the other.
But from the knowledge now sedulously diflTused as popular
instruction, we anticipate no injury whatever, and certainly
no great benefit ; much of it will never reach those for
whom it is benevolently intended ; and if it did, their lot
forbids, without a previous change in their condition, that
they can be able to appreciate and enjoy its objects,
pleasures, and advantages. Of. teachers of science we
have abundance, of morahty very few : yet the former is
little more than the art of gain, the latter of happiness.
Unless popular education include morality as w^ell as sci-
ence, it cannot be said to operate either as an instrument or
preventive of depravity ; it is simply an engine of power ;
and whether converted to evil or good, depends on impulses
derived from other sources."*
The statistics of crime afford us yet surer aid in the for-
mation of a correct judgment in this matter. On occasion
of the riots, which pervaded the agricultural districts of
England during the closing months of the year 1830, the
state of education among the guilty peasantry became a
topic of inquiry, and the result is given as follows, in a for-
eign publication of authority if —
" Debasing ignorance prevails to an extent, which could
not be credited, were it not verified by the closest investi-
gation. The facts which have been ehcited respecting the
* Treatise on the Police and Crinies of the Metropolis, (1829) pp. 226,
227.
t Report of the British and Foreign School Society, quoted in American
Annals of Education, vol. iv. p. ;;:54.
INTRODUCTORY LECTURE. 15
moral and intellectual state of those counties, which have
been disgraced by riots and acts of incendiarism, are truly
affecting, and yet they are but a fair representation of the
actual state of our peasantry. We call ourselves an en-
lightened nation, and educated people ; and yet, out of
nearly 700 prisoners put on trial in four counties, up-
wards of 260 were as ignorant as the savages of the
desert : they could not read a single letter. Of the
whole 700, only 150 could write, or even read with
ease ; and in the words of one of the chaplains to the
jails, nearly the whole number were totally ignorant with
regard to the nature and obhgation of true religion."
It is quite preposterous to pretend that Education had
any influence in augmenting crime amid a population thus
brutally debased and ignorant. There is, however, an as-
certained effect of the diffusion of knowledge upon crime,
which is well stated in another foreign publication.*
'< In Russia, where education can scarcely be said to exist,
out of 5800 crimes committed within a certain period, 3500
were accompanied by violence ; while in Pennsylvania,
where education is more generally diffused, out of 7400
crimes, only 640 were accompanied by violence, being in
the proportion of one twelfth of the whole, instead of three
fifths, as in the former case. Thus the only ascertained
effect of intellectual education on crime is to substitute
fraud for force ; the cunning of civilized, for the violence of
savage life. Nor would even this small change be perma-
nent. A highly intellectual community without moral
principles and the habits of self-denial which religion im-
poses, would only prove a sleeping volcano, ready to awake
every moment, and overthrow those very institutions under
which it had been fostered. To increase the intellectual
"Scottish Guardian, quoted in American Annals of Education, vol. iv.
p. 255.
16 MR CUSHING'S
powers and enlarge the knowledge, of a man devoid of
principle, is only to create in him new desires, to make him
restless and dissatisfied, hating those that are above him,
and desirous of reducing all to his own level ; and you have
but to realize universally such a state of society to fill the
cup of the world's guilt and misery to the brim."
These views, tending to explain the exact influence of
civihzation, or intellectual cultivation, upon the spread of
crime, are confirmed by all the criminal returns in England.
Thus it appears by the Parliamentary Returns, that of 14,947
convictions in England in 1832, so many as 10,130 were
for simple larceny, and only 544 were for crimes coming
under the head of daring and forcible violations of public
order. And in the facts of the violent crimes, there is, on
the whole, an absence of the outrage and cruelty, which
used to be their concomitants, showing a progressive miti-
gation of the old ferocity of the uneducated populace.
This fact is more strikingly true of the civic than of the
rural population, in regard to which the result of social im-
provement in London is said to be this :* —
" All those descriptions of criminals, who were wont to
inspire the greatest terror, have not indeed been entirely
extirpated, but have at least been forced to withdraw from
the systematic pursuit of their lawless courses. A burglary,
a robbery on the highway, a murder, still occasionally occurs ;
but those bands of marauders, who used to make our streets
and roads constantly unsafe at certain hours, are broken up
and no longer exist. The law, which was formerly kept in
check by those ruffians, is now master and keeps them in
check. The substitution of this state of things is an im-
mense gain. It is a step forward in civihzation. The
practical benefit of the change, — that which we feel every
day and every hour, — is not to be told. We move about
* Companion to the Newspaper for 1833, p. 65, 81.
INTRODUCTORY LECTURE. 17
every where without dread or danger. No man, generally
speaking, dreams of the chance of being either murdered,
or knocked down, or robbed, of being exposed to injury
either in person or property, while passing along the public
street or the king's highway. The robberies, and assaults,
and murders, that are still sometimes perpetrated, take place
out of sight, in remote and lonely situations."
Not long after the discussion of the subject of educa-
tion in the House of Commons, the same question came up
in the House of Lords, in connexion with the subject of
Prison Discipline, (June 29, 1834.) Lord Wharnchffe, in
stating the fact that instruction did not of itself diminish
crime, was careful, with a practical good sense and candid
consideration, the reverse of the shallow dogmatism of Mr
Cobbett, to confine himself to the kind and degree of edu-
cation hitherto introduced into England : — in which view
of the subject Lord Melbourne and Lord Brougham concur-
red, while they maintained the general utility of united
moral and intellectual education.*
In France, also, the topic has undergone discussion, in
books and in deliberative assemblies , and the statesmen of
that country have arrived at the true solution of the ques-
tion. MM. Dupin and Lucas have shown that in France,
as in England, the higher crimes, those accompanied by
brutality and violence, and proceeding from the revengeful
and licentious passions, are lessened as we become more
civilized and enlightened ; whilst petty crimes against pro-
perty will increase relatively, and it may be absolutely, as
the extremes of wealth and poverty, and the accumulation of
capital, become prominent features of society .f In making
provision for moral and religious training, as a part of the
new system of universal national education, which the
French have lately adopted, they have shown their 'per-
* See extracts at the end of the Discourse,
t Encyclopaedia Americana, Crime.
3
18 MR CUSHINGS
ception of the evil to be remedied, the deficiency to be
supplied, in order to render Instruction an effective agent
of moral and social elevation. On the other hand, the
French Commissioners, MM. de Beaumont and de Tocque-
ville, in their work on the Penitentiary System of the
United States, fall into the common error of treating
instruction as merely the acquisition of certain rudiments
of learning ; and thence draw injurious inferences as to the
utility of Education ; which are very conclusively refuted
by the American translator, Dr Lieber.*
So much for the argument founded on the relative state
of crime and of Instruction in Europe. As for the case of
New York, that may be shortly dismissed. In a community
or country, where all the inhabitants are taught to read and
write, it must needs be that the criminals also possess those
quahfications. The fact, that they do so, proves, as in the
other case, simply that Instruction has not absolutely put an
end to the commission of crime ; that, unaided, or as at
present conducted, it is insufficient for the prevention of all
crime. Besides, a very considerable portion of our criminal
population is composed of hardened men self-exiled from
other countries ; by whom the most daring and systematic
acts of robbery or burglary have usually been committed.
And those among them, who could not read, are probably
for the most part the off-scouring of the jails, and the refuse
of the alms-houses of Europe.
These considerations, it may be, are didactic, dry, unin-
teresting ; but there is no alternative, in discussing this part
of the case, between being very plain or very superficial ;
since it is a point of statistical explanation, unsusceptible of
rhetorical ornament. Assuming the view thus presented to
be just, let us now regard its application to the United
States.
The superiority of the people of the United States, at
* Penitentiary System in the United Slates, pp. 63,247, and Int. p. xxv.
INTRODUCTORY LECTURE. 19
least of its free population, to Europeans in general, in three
things, — hberality of political institutions, general diffusion
of knowledge, and moral cultivation, — we will, as we
safely may, take with us in the outset.
Look first at our political institutions. We continually
speak of them in general terms ; and the name, the aspira-
tion of Liberty issues habitually and spontaneously from
our lips ; and free government, a government of the peo-
ple and for the people, is ever present to our thoughts ; and
we ought all to appreciate the unrivalled blessings of our
happy lot in the possession of repubUcan institutions, which,
however ill they be sometimes administered, or whatever
imperfections there be in some of their parts, are yet in
themselves such as no other land enjoys. But we do not
understand, we cannot estimate, the extent of the evils in
government and legislation, which paralyze the industry of
so many fertile regions of Europe.
Take an illustration of this in the case of a country so
fortune-favored even as England, where the discussions,
connected with, and consequent upon, parliamentary reform,
have yet forced upon our attention so many corruptions in
her political system : — the oppression of the corn-laws and
tithe-system in England, — the iniquity of the disabilities
so long imposed upon Catholics, — the double tax for the
support of two religions in Ireland, — the unbearable mis-
ery of the manufacturing and agricultural poor in both
islands, — the universal sacrifice of the laboring classes to
the privileges and perquisites of the nobles, the gentry, the
clergy, and the office-holders. Still, how far is England
above Spain, Germany, Russia, if not above France, in the
liberaUty of her political institutions ! But why look deep
or seek far in quest of illustrations of this point, when one,
the best of all, lies before us on the very surface of society.
In parts of Europe, it is penal to possess arms, without a
license, because the governors cannot trust them indiscrimin-
20 MR CUSHING'S
ately in the hands of the governed ; here it is penal not to pos-
sess them ; and the contrast affords most cogent proof of the
state of social freedom relatively in Europe and America.
O fortunatos minium, sua si bona norint !
Happy, thrice happy should we be, did we never wan-
tonly dash from our lips the cup of happiness and pros-
perity !
Look, secondly, at the intellectual condition of the peo-
ple of the United States, or at least of New England.
Here, every body acquires the elements of knowledge at
our common schools ; lecture-rooms and lyceums abound
on all hands ; elementary publications for the purposes of
instruction in the rudiments of learning are accessible to
the whole world ; and all the higher branches of informa-
tion, religious teaching, moral wisdom, literary cultivation,
are within the reach of the humblest individual in the land.
Let me illustrate this position, also, by plain intelligible fact,
instead of leaving it upon the trust of naked assertion.
There exist, in all countries, national usages, estabUshed
modes of doing the most ordinary of things, which are
pregnant with inference touching the points on which
they bear. Here, the great abundance and extreme cheap-
ness of newspapers are sufficiently evident; and without
pausing to reflect on the subject, we could scarce do justice
to the value and amount of intelligence, which the diurnal
press affords, penetrating as it does through all the relations
of life. Spread forth before you that familiar sheet. As the
eye glides over its crowded columns, it takes in at a glance
what volumes of fact gathered from the very ends of the
earth, and multiphed in how many forms of communication
by the richest and grandest of human inventions ! In it,
are single lines, a name even, which, speechless to the gen-
eral eye, yet pours a tide of gladness, or deadens the very
life's blood, in the bosom of many a fellow creature. The
INTRODUCTORY LECTURE. 21
solitary wife sits by her domestic hearth ; as the infant
prattler climbs on her knee, how thinks she of him, the
cynosure of her heart's affections, far away along the great
deep, tempest-tossed it may be upon its foaming surface, or
perchance sunk " lower than plummet can reach," beneath
its devouring waves ; — and what rapture will not a simple
word, meaningless to all beside, impart to her eager gaze I
And how many hopes he buried forever in the brief record
of deaths, which that sheet contains ; what a world of
emotions and sufferings will not the imagination enter, if it
follow up the scenes of sorrow, coupled with each of those
unregarded names ! Half a dozen Unes chronicle the re-
sult of a battle fought in the mountains of Biscay or
Navarre, or by the lemon-groves and vine-covered hills of
Santarem. Call up the scene to your eyes ; think of those
about to meet in mortal conflict before you ; the flash and
pomp of advancing squadrons ; the deep earth sending up
the tramp of their hosts, and the roar of their cannon to
the sky ; and the hfeless thousands of brave hearts and gal-
lant spirits that lie low upon that stricken field ; reflect on
crowns there to be lost and won, and the happiness or
misery of millions of men hanging on the fearful issue of
victory : — and then how changed is the interest em-
bodied in a single cold half-read paragraph. I suggest
these obvious considerations, merely as indicating the
real, but unestimated, importance of those daily gazettes,
which here every body reads, every body buys, every body
has in his family as among the common conveniences
of Ufe. But how is it with this great source of intelligence
elsewhere ? In England, the great political newspapers are
an expensive luxury, which people in general read only
in news-rooms and coffee-houses, or hire by the hour, as is
the established custom in London. That is, there are indi-
viduals, part of whose daily trade and business it is, to let
newspapers by the hour, just as books are hired from a cir-
culating library.
22 MR CUSHING'S
Again. Here, in New England, every man can read and
write. At least, the exceptions to this are so few, that if
in the course of business you encounter a person who can-
not read and write, you may safely presume that he is not
a native of the country. Whereas, in Europe, the common
accomplishment of writing is but sparingly possessed by
the laboring classes, so much so, that, as in the East, the
business of writmg for hire is a stated occupation of indi-
viduals in the cities and large towns, in many parts of the
Continent ; and little cabinets or offices are seen, where the
public writer receives his customers : — So much inferior is
the school condition of the general mass in Europe.
Look, in the third place, at the better moral and religious
condition of the people of New England ; — at their more
correct observance of the ordinances of religion ; at their
free-handedness in the support of pubUc worship, which
although, in the existing state of the law, it is chiefly spon-
taneous, far exceeds that of other countries in aggregate
amount of benefaction ; at our peaceful and tranquil Sab-
baths, which, elsewhere the world over, if we only except
a part of Great Britain, are consigned to idleness, riot, vice,
and violence ; — look at all, in short, of pure, and peculiar,
and admirable, and exalted, which distinguishes the moral
aspect of New England. I say New England, because
there, pre-eminently, is the fact apparent, and because in
Virginia, Carolina, and elsewhere at the South, the exis-
tence of negro-servitude is a deadly blight upon the social
and economical condition of the country, weighing down
its prosperity, corrupting the morals of its people of every
class and color, and condemning it to long endurance of
public evils, which are the more melancholy to observe on
account of the extreme difficulty of discovering how or when
the source of them shall cease to exist. Nor do I allege the
mere fact of prosperity as such, — the physical well-being
of our population, in all that relates to the influence of
INTRODUCTORY LECTURE. 23
clothing, shelter, food, and other necessaries of life, or the
animal health and strength ; for this flows in some degree
from the cheapness and abundance of lands, the conse-
quent high price of labor, and the general profitableness
of industry, in all parts of America as compared with
Europe.
But the political, intellectual and moral condition of the
United States, which I have thus dwelt upon, — so peculiar
in itself, so strongly contrasted with that of other great and
powerful nations, — whence then, does it spring? What
is that potent principle, manifest in the character, conduct^
and history of our fathers, and so efficacious in moulding
the destinies of their sons, out of old materials building up
this novel and original people in the New World ? Undeni-
ably, it is the peculiar circumstances of our extraction and
colonial origin, the ancestry we possess, and above all the sys-
tematic combination of moral and intellectual instruction in
their schools and colleges, which serves to account for much
that is excellent in our national manners — for the high tone
of moral and religious feeling, and the general activity and
industry of condition, and the wide diffusion of intelligence,
which characterize the people of New England. Our
fathers were not armed adventurers, stimulated by the
lust of gold or ambition of conquest ; but men of deep-
seated moral purposes, flying from persecution at home, to
found in the wilderness of the New World a state after
their own hearts ; bigoted, doubtless, Uke all men of high-
souled and single-minded enthusiasm of resolve ; but withal
well-informed beyond the ordinary rate of their country-
men of the same class, and honorably distinguished for a
correctness of moral deportment, a devotedness to the
duties of religion, and a self-relying thriftiness of temper,
which have made the appellation of Puritans, originally
applied in scorn and derision, to become at length a name
of pride and glory. Such, it is matter of obvious remark
24 MR CUSHING'S
and familiar conviction, are the distinctive traits, which
have descended to the inhabitants of the Eastern States.
Have vi^e sufficiently reflected how far causes, truly similar,
although apparently different, have stamped a general con-
formity of character upon the people and institutions of the
whole United States ?
True it is, that the Puritans, the commonwealth's men
and religious independents of the times of Hampden, Pym,
Vane, and Cromwell, are the marked and predominant sect,
among the primitive people of the British Colonies. True
it is, that in the public schools founded among us, in the
houses of religious worship built, in the great struggles of
liberty conducted through years of. suffering and bloodshed
to a successful issue, and in the constitutional governments
established, theirs was the consistent spirit of enhghtened
and indomitable independence, which gave hfe and soul to
the efforts of the United Colonies. True it is, also, that
the enterprising sons of New England have sown themselves
as it were broadcast over the whole Continent, transporting
the blessings of common schools, of universal religious
instruction, and of industrious activity, along the bright track
of their advance into the farthest West. But they stood
not alone, oh no, they stood not alone, by the sacred altar
of freedom, when they pledged their lives, their fortunes,
and their honor, in their country's cause. Protestants,
driven into exile by the intolerance of their Catholic breth-
ren in France, had come to find themselves a refuge and a
home in New York or Carolina ; Cathohcs, forced abroad in
like manner by the intolerance of their Protestant brethren
of Britain, had planted themselves in Maryland : — testify-
ing, by the community of their suffering and the diversity
of its cause, that the parts of oppressor and oppressed be-
long to no peculiar form of religious faith, to no solitary
stream of national blood. Nay, differing still from each of
these great denominations of men, were the Quakers, who
INTRODUCTORY LECTURE. 25
peopled the banks of the Delaware, and gave their own
character of puritanism in religion and morals to the legis-
lation and social habits of that section of the Union. And
so many thousands of wronged and persecuted Irish, and
of sufferers for opinion's sake of the various nations of
Europe, as from year to year they seek an asylum on our
shores, — all these illustrate the workings of the great prin-
ciple, which governed the settlement of the country, and
which, quahfied and mellowed by time, but by no means
deprived of its native force, still pervades the social organi-
zation of the United States.
That great principle, the only true secret of useful
popular education, is the simultaneous moral and intellect-
ual institution of the people. This is the key-stone of our
social arch ; this, the fundamental doctrine of our political
faith : — to make the cultivation of the mind go along hand
in hand with the cultivation of the moral affections ; whilst
enlarging the understanding, to purify the heart ; doing
violence to no man's conscientious religious behef, and at
the same time, in the systems of education and public in-
struction of whatever kind, to enforce the great moral
truths, which belong ahke to all the creeds of Christendom :
such is the great hereditary social duty devolved on the
descendants of the Puritans. In these principles were most
of the Colonies settled ; in obedience to them, were our
common schools, our colleges, and our parishes estabUshed ;
in conformity therewith were the pohtical constitutions of
the country framed ; in and by those principles only, under
the benediction of God, and through the united intelligence
and purity of the people, can our liberties be sustained ; in
the admonition of such principles are the native children of
the soil nurtured and bred ; and to the equal enjoyment of
the blessings they ensure, do we welcome the adopted
citizen, provided he takes care to bring with him the same
pure and noble moral purposes which our fathers brought,
4
26 MR CUSHING'S
when, like them, he claims a refuge in America from op^
pression and injustice in Europe.
Of mere intellectual instruction, however, there are certain
general effects, which it is impossible to deny. Such is its
tendency to diffuse in society the spirit of freedom, although
not seldom degenerating into licentiousness ; and to aug-
ment the comforts of life through inventions or discoveries
in useful art : — that is, in accelerating the general march of
civiUzation. In addition to these general effects of mere in-
tellectual instruction upon the social condition of mankind, in
civilizing it, refining and elevating it, and augmenting the
comforts and conveniences of Hfe, it clearly has a moral effect
in civilizing, refining and elevating the individual character.
Or, as Addison phrases it. Education, " when it works upon
a noble mind, draws out to view every latent virtue and per-
fection." It gives men the faculty at least of judging
between right and wrong, if it do not give them the disposi-
tion to use it. He who is intellectually well-informed, can-
not but say. Video meliora proboque ; although he do add,
deteriora sequor. All the fine-spun sophistry of Rousseatr
in objection to this, had been refuted, eighteen hundred
years before it was written, in Tnlly's beautiful Oration for
Archias. The Genevan maintained that the pursuit of
knowledge corrupted the manUer virtues of courage, pat-
riotism, disinterestedness. Not so, said the Roman. It
were, indeed, too much to affirm that those great men, the
lights of their time, whose virtues are held up to us for im-
itation in the records of the past, were uniformly learned
in all the teaching of books. Confess we, that many there
have been of excellent spirit and virtue, and who without
education, by a sort of divine institution of nature herself,
have risen to moral dignity through their own inborn
resources. Nay, be it admitted that nature more frequently
achieves glory and virtue without learning, than learning
without nature. But, at the same time, when, to a di&tin-
INTRODUCTORY LECTURE. 27
guished and illustrious nature a due proportion and con-
formation of teaching is adjoined, then there is used to
result a singular and surpassing perfection of greatness ; as
is the case of one divinely endowed of our fathers' time, Pub-
hus Africanus.* And the expressions which thus literally,
with scarce a change in the place of a word, I transcribe
from the pages of Cicero, are commended to our approba-
tion by every argument of common sense and of universal
experience.
But Instruction, intellectual Instruction, is not of itself
sufficient to assure the moral purity of society ; and to com-
pass this, we need to develope and follow out the principle
of conjoined moral and intellectual education descended to
us from the Puritans. Late events have shown us that, with
all our intelligence, our morality, our sense of and respect
for the force of religion, we slumber in false security. On
the surface, the aspect of society is bright and smiUng ; the
loveliest flowers and the richest fruits of refined life are
ours ; the fabric of our greatness lifts its proud battlements
to the skies, and pushes down its foundations deep into the
everlasting hills ; but the fires of disorder and corruption
are smouldering beneath our feet, and may burst forth upon
us at an hour in the earthquake voice of destruction. So
far as writing, teaching, acting, may avail, there devolves
upon us the duty of counteracting and conjuring down the
troubled spirit of disorganization ; of drying up the sources
of evil and opening new fountains of good ; of seeking
to infuse into society not only liberal knowledge, but also
sound moral and religious principles. There is, in the
heart even of our purest cities, a crusade preaching against
the very existence of social order, a war waged on all we
most value in our national institutions, of religious, moral,
social and political. The crisis calls loudly on the for-
* Ciceron. Oral, pro Archia, c. 7.
28 MR CUSHING'S
bearance and virtuous feeling of every member of society ;
but there be classes of individuals, having pre-eminent
capacity of usefulness. They are,
In the first place, all men of moderate means, who are
looking to acquire a competency in life by their skill or
application to business. These have particular cause to
reprobate a disorganized state of society ; because such
men, with their families cannot fail to be among the first
victims of any great social convulsion. At such crises,
the very rich may transfer their wealth to foreign funds, or
during the early stages of change employ it in profitable
usury at home ; the very poor have nothing to lose ; but all
intermediate classes are crushed Bnd swallowed up in the
vortex of national calamity. Doubtless the apostles of
the new political faith hold up an equal distribution
of property as the lure of their school. If it were to
be so, it would be to purchase a small temporary good at
the price of a great permanent evil. But such a distribution
would never take place. Suppose a social revolution to
be impending in this country. What would be the practi-
cal effect of such a thing in prospect ? Capital in specie,
ships, merchandize, would speedily fly to other lands ; what
little gold or silver remained at home would be concealed
in the earth ; manufactures, the mechanic arts, the business
of transportation, commerce, would gradually dwindle
away to the bare prime necessaries of Ufe ; canals, rail-
roads, buildings, and other fixed improvements, would come
10 naught ; and of course under such circumstances, when
destruction did but lay the weight of her hand upon the
moneyed capitalist, she would tread into the dust all those
who were engaged in the pursuits of productive enterprise.
For them, little would be left but the desperate trade of
civil war.
In the second place, the new social schemes which are
abroad, and the pestilent doctrines of their school, demand
INTRODUCTORY LECTURE. 29
the deep indignation of the female sex, and of all, who, as
fathers, as husbands, or as members of society in whatever
relation, value the dignity and purity of that portion of the
human race, which is given us for the ornament of life,
its exquisite solace, its truest pledge of happiness, its lever
of moral elevation, but which may be perverted into its
degradation and its curse. It is a point susceptible of dis-
tinct and irrefragable proof as matter of history, that the
social respectabiUty of woman, exclusively proper to the
countries of Christendom, is directly ascribable to two pecu-
liar doctrines of Christianity, namely, the equal participation
of woman in the external services and the spiritual sanctions
of religion, and the singleness and sacredness of the mar-
riage tie. Resting upon these two positions, we may safely
challenge the world in argument. What, then, shall we
say of creatures claiming to be reasonable, appealing to us
for sympathy, and for extraordinary legal immunities, who,
not content with levelling both sexes to the condition of
brutes by impeaching our spiritual essence, would sink
woman lower yet in moral debasement? What shall
woman herself say to it? Woman's exalted social rank
in all the countries of Christendom, her more especial
and pervading personal influence in the United States,
is altogether the consequence of her moral beauty of char-
acter, her delicacy, her refinement, her sensitive dignity
of feehng and understanding. Strip her of them, and she
is uncrowned of her diadem, dethroned from her queenly
state, ungirded of her magic cestus. Shame on the
shallow sophistry, if sophistry it be, and not rather mis-
creant profligacy, which labors to this bad end ! Every
principle of good order in society, every sentiment of truth
and honor in the heart, recoils at such miserable profana-
tion of the great gift of reason. For woman herself, so far
as regards the general right feehng of the sex, we cannot
fear :
A thousand liv'ried angela lacquey iier,
Driving far off each thing of sin and guilt.
so MR CUSHINGS INTRODUCTORY LECTURE.
Still it behoves all and each of us in his appointed sphere
of life, that we look well to this indiscriminate assault on
reUgion, virtue, and property ; so that public indignation
may stamp its authors with the burning brand of infcuny
and scorn.
Finally, to all professional teachers, whether literary
or religious, the times appeal that they come in aid of
the laws by their instruction and their authority. And if
a layman might presume to utter counsels to such ears, it
would be to urge on them the great paramount obligation
at the present time, of tempering in all things the vexed
waves of society, and pouring upon them the oil of conciU-
ation and fraternal peace, rather than of breathing into the
bosom of the tempest a single added breath of agitation.
It is too clear a case to argue. They play a desperate
game, who give themselves up to fratricide contention in
the face of a common foe. Whichsoever of them gains a
victory, his will not be the triumph. Be it unitedly our
endeavor to sustain the law ; to change it by lawful means
if it err ; and whatever it promises to protect, that so
long as the promise holds good, faithfully to protect.
And as Christians, presuppose not ill of the Greek and
Roman Churches, the early recipients, and for fifteen
hundred years the sole depositaries and conservators of
Christianity.
APPENDIX.
[Extracts from a debate in the British House of Commons, June 3d, 1834,
on a motion of Mr Roebuck, Member for Bath, for a Committee to inquire
into the means for establishing a system of National Education.]
No. I. — pp. 11.
Mr CoBBETT said : — He rose for the purpose of making a few
observations on the scheme of the hon. and learned member for
Bath. He could not help fearing that his scheme would not be
productive of good. On the subject of education in this country,
it was not philosophy or reasoning that could guide, but recourse
ought rather to be had to experience. Everybody knew that
wiihin the last thirtyfive years Lancasterian and other schools
had been founded, and education had increased twenty fold, but
experience showed that the morals of the people had not
mended with the increase of education. It had even been
admitted that night, that drunkenness had increased wonder-
fully within latter years, so that education did not even
prevent drunkenness. He repeated that all this increase of
education had not been productive of any good, and he
ventured to say that there was not a single country gen-
tleman who j would not say that the fathers of the last gene-
ration made better laborers, better servants, and better men,
than their sons of the present generation. This proved that
the laboring classes were much better without that intellectual
enjoyment, which the hon. and learned member for Bath was
anxious to increase to them, than they were with it. What
also was the state of crime in England and Wales now, as com-
30 APPENDIX.
pared with its amount at the period the education of the lower
orders of the people began ? Why, the proportion was now at
least four if not seven times as great as it was when education
commenced.
[An hon. Member here said : ninefold.]
Mr Cobbett resumed. — So much the better for his (Mr C.'s)
argument. Within the same period, too, the number of illegiti-
mate children had increased to a prodigious extent ; so that in
this respect the morality of the people could not be said to have
been advanced by education. The hon. and learned member for
Bath had contended that the system of education in this country
was wrong altogether, and had instanced, as an example worthy
of imitation, the state of things in New York, in America, where
he had said half a million of human beings were educated, and
in the full tide of enjoyment of intellectual matter. He would
tell the hon. and learned member the state of things in the
district on the condition of which he relied. He (Mr Cobbett)
had written to New York for information, since the subject
was under consideration last year, and he had received an
account signed by the Recorder of New York, which, though
he had it not now with him, he would produce tomorrow to the
hon. and learned gentleman. This account embraced a com-
parative statement of the number of educated criminals and
the number of uneducated criminals, and showed a very con-
siderable majority of the former over the latter. So much for
education preventing crime either in America or England. Tt
was a good people, and not a gabbling people, that was wanted
in this country, and this smattering of education would only
raise the laborers of this country above the situations best
suited to their own interests and those of their families. It
would put into their heads that they were not born to labor,
but to get their living without it. By the plan suggested by
the hon. and learned member for Bath the child of the laborer
could not complete his education until he was at least fifteen
or sixteen years of age; but in the mean time he should be
glad to know who was to keep a great eating, and drinking, and
APPENDIX. 33
guzzling boy — who was to find him with provender all that
time ? Who was to satisfy his body while his intellects were
being filled ? The hon. and learned gentleman had said, that
the laborer's boy was to receive instruction after the day's
labor is over ; but if the hon. and learned member knew any-
thing of labor, he would rather prefer going to sleep. In
short, if all were to be scholars, it would be necessary for the
whole population to shut their mouths and determine to eat no
more. The interference with labor would be the very worst
course which could be pursued by the Legislature.
The consequence of putting the children of poor people to
school would be to keep them from work ; children were never
too young for work. He had two boys under seven years of age
now in his employ to keep the birds away from the corn, and
each of them received half a crown a week. This was of some
consequence to their fathers ; it was gaining money to them.
If you send the boys of poor people to slip-slop school-mistresses
— if you send them to a drunken school-master — or, if you send
them to a conceited coxcomb school-master, they would not
keep birds away from the corn, but would run and shelter them-
selves under the hedge when the rain began to pelt.* They
would be brought up with such high notions, that there would
be no use of them whatever. For these reasons, therefore, he
objected to any system of national education, and he would
oppose the motion of the hon. and learned gentleman.
No. II. — p. 17.
(Extractb from a debate in the House of Lords, June 29, 1834.)
Lord Wharncliffe said : " There was another plan which
had been tried with a view of producing reform in the great
mass of the people ; and that was education. He confessed he
was one of those, who thought education would have greatly de-
creased crime. He regretted to say that he was disappointed.
* I insert Mr Cobbett's speech with all its tissue of coarseness and
ribaldry upon its head, as the best means of showing tiie inconsistency
and poor prejudices of the man.
5
34 APPENDIX.
He believed that the kind of education which had been afforded
had increased crime ; and the more he saw, the more he was
convinced of that fact. He did not doubt that the general sys-
tem of education was very valuable for some purposes; but he
very much doubted if the present system gave to the individuals
who were subjected to it, such a power over their minds as
enabled them to resist the temptation to commit crime. In sup-
port of this opinion the noble lord referred to the report of the
French Commissioners on the state of education in the United
States. Those Commissioners declared it to be the result of
their inquiry, that the more knowledge was diffused the more
crime was increased. This they attributed to the circumstance,
that knowledge created wants among the humbler classes, which
the perpetration of crime alone could gratify. Knowledge
multiplied social relations ; it produced a desire for social enjoy-
ments ; and the means of cultivating those relations, and indulg-
ing in those enjoyments which could not be honestly obtained
by the lower classes in their present condition. Such was the
opinion of the French Commissioners. He was very much
afraid that those gentlemen were right and that the greater the
diffusion of education in the country, the greater was the
temptation to crime. He by no means doubted that a proper
discipline of the mind in youth was highly advantageous, but
he very much doubted if the mere acquisition of knowledge as
such, was so. Of this he was certain, and he said it with re-
gret, that the kind and degree of education which had hitherto
been introduced into this country had not had the effect of
diminishing crime."
Viscount Melbourne said : " It was true, as his noble friend
had stated, that this increase of crime had taken place during a
period when the greatest exertions were made to improve the
moral condition of the country. This had been stated by his
noble friend with great candor and moderation ; but in other
places it had frequently been stated with great bitterness, and in
the shape of a taunt. It had been asked what had the Church,
what had our schools, our mechanics' institutes and societies,
done for the moral improvement of the people ? This was no*
APPENDIX. 35
a fair way of reasoning. It was necessary to consider what
these persons were graciously pleased to leave out of their con-
sideration, — the strength of the antagonist forces against
which they had to strive. Neither ought the increase of popula-
tion to be forgotten. It was to be expected that more crime
would be committed by a larger than a smaller population ; and
it should be remembered also that if crime had increased, the
country had greatly increased in wealth, luxury, indulgence,
and extent of desire, which were the real causes of and instiga-
tions to crime. It was against these antagonist powers that the
moral forces of society had to contend, and considering their
potency, he thought they had kept their ground pretty well ;
nor was it to be made a charge against them that they had not
produced what, in such a state of society, was an impossibility,
viz. perfect purity and virtue. His noble friend had said that
he did not perceive that any of those advantages had resulted
from education which had been anticipated, nor did he expect
that any of those advantages would flow from it in future. But
his noble friend had not made any distinction between educa-
tion and the objects to which it was directed. The object of
education was the diffusion of knowledge, and knowledge, as
they were justly told, was power. But power of itself was
neither good nor bad, but beneficial or disadvantageous, accord-
ing as it was used or applied. Knowledge itself did not secure
virtue, and they knew, by melancholy examples, that the posses-
sion of the highest mental endowments, and the most cultivated
intellect, did not save the possessors from the stains of immor-
ality and vice. Bonis Uteris Greeds imbutus bonam mentem
non induerat. The effects resulting from education must de-
pend on the nature and objects of the education. If the educa-
tion given were such as to give the lower orders opinions above
their situations, and to impart to them a distaste for labor, it
would be the most fatal and destructive gift which could be pre-
sented to them ; an apple from the tree of death. But if
the education given to them were such as to teach them the
necessity of labor, and of conforming themselves to their situa-
tions in life, he could have no doubt that education, based upon
36 APPENDIX.
such principles, and conducted in such a manner, would be pro-
ductive of the most advantageous result.
The Lord Chancei-lor was sorry to stand in the way of
his noble friend ; but, from the situation in which he stood, he
should not think that he was well discharging his duty if he did
not make a few observations on a subject so very candidly, with
so much moderation, with no exaggeration, and with so much
philosophical calmness, brought before the House. His noble
friend, who had introduced this motion, was of all individuals,
in or out of that House, the one most capable, if the profession
of the law had more opportunities than any other, of seeing the
working of our system of criminal law, from his situation as
chairman of the west riding of the -county of York. It was
very possible that the diminution of crime had not borne that
proportion which sanguine men expected to the progress of im-
provement in society. But this circumstance ought not to fill
them with despair, with apprehension for the future, or regret
for their past efforts, or even make them disinclined to continue
those efforts in the same direction. The question in this case
was rather an abstract one, and did not appear to lead directly
to any practical result. It was, whether or not the increase of
knowledge, the more general diffusion of it amongst all classes
of the community, tended to prevent the commission of crime?
He was far from being able to come to the conclusion which had
been somewhat more dogmatically stated than he should have
expected, in the report of two French gentlemen sent out by the
French King, that it was now universally admitted that those
parts of the world where knowledge was most diffused were not
the most exempt from crime, but rather the contrary. Who ever
expected that increasing the knowledge of the community
would immediately and directly have the effect of diminishing
crime ? Whoever did entertain such an expectation had no
right to complain of disappointment, when he found the effect
did not follow his meritorious labors, because he had formed
groundless and unreasonable expectations. The tendency
was to improve the habits of the people, to better their princi-
ples, and to amend all that constituted their character. Princi-
APPENDIX. 37
pies and feelings combined made up what is called human
character. And that the tendency of knowledge was to amend
this character by the operation of knowledge, and in proportion
to its diffusion, there could be no doubt. Its tendency was to
increase habits of reflection, to enlarge the mind, and render it
more capable of receiving pleasurable impressions from, and
taking an interest in, matters of other than mere sensual grati-
fication. This process operates likewise on the feelings, and
necessarily tends to improve the character and conduct of the
individual, to increase prudential habits, and to cultivate, in
their purest form, the feelings and affections of the heart. Now,
he took these things to be so pregnant, that it hardly required
any illustration from fact, or any demonstration from reasoning,
to show that the inevitable consequences of such a change in
the human character must inevitably diminish crime. The
effects of knowledge were not new ; they were well known to
the ancients, who had said the same thing in much better
words : —
" Emollit mores, nee sinit esse feros."
Knowledge increased the prudential habits and improved the
feelings and disposition. That it was the tendency of education
to diminish crime was not matter of argument, but of fact. Let
any man go into the gaols, and examine into the condition of
the criminals, whether they were well educated or not ; and he
was perfectly certain that the well-educated would be found to
form a very small proportion indeed of the criminals under ap-
prehension, and smaller still of those under conviction. But
the way in which this mistake had been committed was this,
that in reference to this question knowledge and education were
too frequently confounded. It often happened that what was
taken for instruction and education was merely the first step
towards it, and many persons were considered as educated, who,
in reality, were possessed of nothing worthy the name of know-
ledge or instruction. Reading, writing, and accounts had,
during the last thirty years, too often been held to imply educa-
tion. A person possessed of these might, indeed, have the
means of educating himself; but it did not, by any means,
38 APPENDIX.
follow that he would exercise those means. It was too much to
assume that, because in the agricultural districts, where fewer
means of education existed, crime was not so abundant as in
the better educated and most thickly populated manufacturing
districts, therefore education had no influence in diminishing
crime. » * * * f^^ one ever said that
reading meant instruction and education ; still less did any one
ever say that reading alone would produce the effects of instruc-
tion. His noble friend, who spoke last, and who had spoken
so eloquently, had entirely expressed his views. Knowledge is
power in whatever way it is used, but whether that power wil]
be available to virtue depends on the kind of education which
has been given. If a people be educated without any regard
to moral instruction, it is only putting instruments into their
hands, which they have every motive to misuse. But it was said,
why does not education put a stop to the commission of crime ?
Education certainly exercises a great influence over the moral
character, but he never yet heard it asserted that knowledge
would alter the nature of the human being, or convert him into
something of a higher or purer order than the ordinary race of
mortality. His noble friend had made some remarkable statis-
tical statements, and it appeared that more crimes were now
committed in eight months, than formerly in twelve ; but, had
the increase of population been taken into account ? But was
it not to be expected that the criminals would be more numer-
ous in a population of 14,000,000, than in a population of
7,000,000 or 8,000,000 ? Within less than a century the popu-
lation had doubled. Within the last ten years, or rather in the
calculations made from 1821 to 1831, the population of Eng-
land and Wales had increased two millions. Surdy it would
not for a moment be expected that an increase so great could
have taken place without a consequent increase of crime. There
were other elements at work beside the increase of population, to
which the increase of crime was to be attributed. The defects
in our legislation had a direct tendency to create crime. * *
He hoped he had said enough to show the necessity of taking
into account the counteracting causes which operated to prevent
APPENDIX. 39
the extension of knowledge, from producing the effect which,
but for these obstacles, its promoters had calculated upon.
When the contemplated reformations should take place, then
would be seen the improvement which would follow in the train of
knowledge. On one good result of education there would be no
difference of opinion. There was one class of offences which
varied in extent and degree exactly in proportion with the degree
of knowledge which obtained in any community, and here it
was to be observed, that knowledge was not in itself a cause of
virtue, for the mind may be improved without any improvement
of the disposition, and then knowledge may have the effect of
making the mind, which was possessed of it, more active in a
wrong course, and more powerful in evil; but it was evident,
that in proportion to the learning of a country, crimes of vio-
lence became more rare. This was obvious in France, and
equally so in this country, although crimes of fraud and larceny
had not thus decreased in similar proportion.
LECTURE I
BEST MODE OF FIXING
ATTENTION OF THE YOUNG
By warren burton.
FIXING THE ATTENTION OF THE YOUNG.
We will first consider on what attention naturally de-
pends. The degree of attention with which any one
applies to a subject, depends on the motives he has for so
doing. Men work, and children play with willingness
and their might, because there are certain sufficient motives
which induce them. So likewise, give the young adequate
motives to study, and they will study with all their heart
and strength. The hest mode of fixing the attention,
therefore, is to furnish those motives which will best in-
duce the young to apply themselves to the subjects of
education. But these motives have been already very
fully exhibited in the lectures previously delivered before
the Institute, and in those excellent periodicals, the Jour-
nal of Education, and its successor the Annals. I would
not repeat poorly what has been well expressed before on
the same subject ; I must therefore look around and see if
anything additional can possibly be found respecting the
best motives to study, and the best mode of fixing the
attention. It strikes me that something more might be
profitably said on emulation as a motive to application. It
appears from the lecture delivered last year on this subject,
and from the approbation with which many received its
sentiments, that the reflecting and the experienced are not
44 MR BURTON'S LECTURE.
all opposed to its use. It is certain that the principle is
strongly appealed to almost universally in our seminaries
of learning. If it is an evil principle, it should be in gen-
eral let alone, and other and purer motives should take its
place. I may be permitted, therefore, to offer some views
on this topic, which I have not seen elsewhere, or at least
not seen developed at much length. I would afterward
suggest some motives which might take the place of emu-
lation, certainly with a safety, if not a success that does
not attend this. Perhaps I ought to apologise for bringing
to view the system pursued in colleges, more frequently
and particularly than those prevalent in lower institutions.
I believe that the use of the objectionable principle is more
stably fixed and enormously bad in colleges than anywhere
else ; besides, little comparatively has been directly and
earnestly urged against it as there operating.
What is emulation as it has been applied in education ?
It is the desire to outdo others who belong to the same '
class and are engaged in the same studies. It amounts to
close and personal rivalry, and implies that if one gains
and rejoices, another must lose and regret. Certain exter-
nal distinctions are offered as marks of superiority. In
common schools, there is the head, and the graduations of
honor thence to the foot. Then there are medals, books,
and certificates, held up as prizes to be contended for. In
colleges, there are what are called parts, from the grand
oration down to the insignificant and unspoken theme,
which indicates that even stupidity has been struggling for
honors, or that idleness has had them conferred, such as
they are, whether it would or not. Those who receive
these tokens, or rather the most respectable of them, are
regarded as meritorious, above others to whom they have
not been accorded. Such is the system that has prevailed
almost universally, and continues almost as universally as
ever. My first objection to it is the exceeding injustice to
FIXING THE ATTENTION OF THE YOUNG. 45
which it gives rise. We should naturally say that a per-
son's reward in any course should be in proportion to his
exertions. When one arrives at some exalted station,
through a long course of unremitted and laudable endeavor,
our feelings toward him in respect to the distinction, are
far different from what they would be, had it been con-
ferred on him by inheritance, or by the intrigues or blind
impulse of party. Supposing that the language of Scrip-
ture is to be literally fulfilled, and that mankind are to be
rewarded and punished in a future life by judicial decision,
all would anticipate, with the utmost confidence, from Infi-
nite justice, that it would reward according to the eflx)rts
that had been made, and the difficulties that had been over-
come. No one would dishonor the Divine judgment seat,
with even the flitting fancy, that he whose moral path had
been smooth and of easy ascent, would receive so warm a
plaudit and so rich a crown, as he who had attained the
same height over a rough and impeded way. Reason and
conscience tell us what would be justice in heaven, and
should we listen, would they not tell us what would be justice
on earth ? In the educational course, if external rewards
are conferred, ought they not to be conferred according to
the same rule ; that is, according to the exertions made,
and the obstacles surmounted ? But it is not so in our
seminaries of learning. There, the members of a class are
treated as if they all possessed by nature equal ability to
run the same race, and that the difference between one
and another, lay in the heart — in the will rather than in
the intellect. The purpose of the rewards proposed, is to
arouse the sleeping affections, and impel the sluggish will.
Of course, the award ought to be made somewhat in pro-
portion as the heart has been given to duty. Now scholars
differ from each other in intellectual capacity, full as much
as in features or in bodily dimensions and strength, and
perhaps more. Some are inferior to others in certain par-
46 MR BURTON'S LECTURE.
ticular faculties, and some are inferior in the whole intellect.
There are those whom nature has endowed with extraordi-
nary talents. These will, perhaps, assume and maintain
the first rank at recitation, with very little exertion in com-
parison with others. Such have been known to be among
the most idle and dissipated at college, and yet to bear
away some of the first honors, when in fact there belonged
to them no more real desert for their scholarship, than
belonged to Goliath for wielding a spear like a weaver's
beam in his giant hand, instead of a weapon of ordinary
size. It may not indeed very often happen that a brilliant
but profligate young man takes the higher honors, but it
does very frequently, indeed I may say always, happen that
the rewards are in proportion to natural capacity, rather
than to exertion or a conscientious devotion to the objects
of education. Now is this justice? It surely is; I hear
it replied by the advocate for emulation. If a youth pos-
sesses superior powers, " he has a right to all the fruits of
these powers. He has a right to take the standing his
Maker has given him. It is his estate to which he can
make out the best of all titles — the gift of God." This is
the language of the lecture given here last year in favor of
emulation. It is rejoined that such a youth has justice
done him, he enjoys the fruits of his powers, he takes his
proper standing, whether the head of a spelling-class at
school or the English oration at college be given him or not.
His abiUties if exercised will be known ; his companions
will accord to him the distinction of possessing them, and
he will be conscious of them himself. Now this accorded
distinction, and this conscious possession, are those fruits
which he has a right to enjoy. Besides, the ease with
which he can accomplish his studies, is another happy con-
sequence which no one can take from him. Then again,
the Phrenologists maintain that God's own finger, as it were,
writes the name and the number of talents on the very
FIXING THE ATTENTION OF THE YOUNG. 47
brow of their possessor, for all the world to read, will they
but study the divine hand-writing. If this be true, there
are insignia before the eyes of all, which no man can take
away. At any rate, to say that talent cannot have its
proper standing and due honor, without medals, parts,
and other prizes, is about the same as saying that the great
stars of heaven show not forth their superior magnitude
and surpassing glory, unless observed through a gilded tel-
escope.
The next objection which may be brought against emu.
lation, as it has been used, is the injury to health of which
it is often the occasion. The close competition between
individuals, in our colleges especially, has laid the founda-
tion in many a constitution for feeble health the whole Hfe
afterward. It has caused many to be cut off in the flower
of their days. A young man born in poverty and ob-
scurity, is endued with a superior nature. He aspires to
ascend the intellectual heights and command that wide
horizon of knowledge which is the privilege of the educated
few. He flings aside the rustic's tools and garb, and fits
hastily for college. He perhaps barely enters, in conse-
quence of too brief a preparation. There he finds that
rank and distinction depend on brilliancy of recitation.
He has not wealth, he has not genteel and influential con-
nexions, and he feels that his success in life, at the outset
at least, depends somewhat on his collegiate standing. A
high standing then he is resolved to attain, but it is only
by severe, sickening, and an almost killing apphcation that
he can rise above his disadvantages. He bows himself to
the work, and he bows himself perhaps to the yoke of long
and wretched infirmity, in consequence. Perhaps he is
borne from consumption's lingering bed to the grave, be-
fore half the collegiate course shall have been passed. He
had better have continued at the hammer or the plough, and
been contented with the reading of labor's scanty leisure.
48 MR BURTON'S LECTURE.
But it is not always the student, such as just described,
who is the only sufferer ; the rich, the well prepared, and at
the same time highly talented, sometimes sacrifice health and
life to the merciless spirit of emulation. Now the physical
well-being of the young, should be most carefully watched
over by their instructers and guardians. Is not a system,
therefore, which directly tends to the destruction or jeop-
ardy of health, to say the least, somewhat questionable ?
I have spoken of the danger of the emulation system to
the bodily health ; there is still greater and more general
danger to the spiritual nature. What anxieties does it
occasion to the alternately hoping and fearing aspirant I
What discouragement, despondency, disappointment, and
despair, does it introduce into what should be the calm,
self-possessed, and steadily advancing mind ! Then there
is that bane of the sweet social relations — envy ; and with
it detraction, and next, bitter malignity. Such at least, is
the tendency of emulation. The principle may be likened
to that diabolical spirit who was the father of sin, who was
the mother of death.
There is another evil ; emulation diverts the student's
aim from the real end of study. He is gradually led to
think not of the discipline of his mind and the acquisition
of knowledge, but of the mere art of recitation and the
mark he may thereby acquire. I have known young men
who entered college with no other intention than to inform
and elevate and strengthen their minds, who soon forgot
everything but the paltry honors they must yield to their
rivals, if they did not strive for them themselves. The
pleasures of study were altogether swallowed up in hopes
and fears about recitation and rank. And they were
heartily rejoiced when the collegiate course was terminated,
not because they had been educated and prepared for high
usefulness, but because the torture of rivalry was done, and
they were freed from anxiety and miserable suspense, con-
cerning their final standing and closing honors.
FIXING THE ATTENTION OF THE YOUNG. 49
Again, emulation has been far from producing its intend-
ed effect. It has had a directly contrary effect on no small
portion of students. Nearly if not quite one half of every
class at college, are entirely unreached by this principle,
unless it be to stop and stupify the intellect instead of
stimulating it. They reason in this way — if we cannot
stand high, let us have no standing at all. Let us be
known as devoting our time to anything rather than our
prescribed books, then our low rank will be imputed not to
the lack of talents, but of industry. Some of the young
at the greater seminaries, much prefer to be thought desti-
tute of morals than of intellect. I have no doubt that em-
ulation, in past times, has been of considerable use, in con-
sequence of the absence of other and better motives. Had
this principle not been artificially and keenly excited, and
other motives not been applied, there would indeed have
been but Httle study, and our seminaries would have been
but little better than halls of amusement and social loung-
ing places. The philosophy of youthful nature has not
been understood, and the true and best modes of education
have been undiscovered ; during this period of ignorance,
the emulation of the schools has been better than no exciting
motive at all. For a large portion of the studies have
been of such a character, or have been presented in such
a manner, that the youth would hardly pursue them with
diligence, without some strong stimulant. He would
scarcely do it for the simple pleasure of study. Emula-
tion, like the principle of resentment, was implanted by the
Creator, to be of use in the primary stages of the progress
of our race, when the animal prevailed over the spiritual, in
the human constitution. As better motives become under-
stood and can be brought to bear on the conduct with
efficiency, this primitive course and heathen stimulant
should be let alone. Nevertheless, it will not altogether
7
60 MR BURTON'S LECTURE.
slumber, but like resentment, it will kindle up and fire the
heart sufficiently, without any artificial cherishing.
No one is pleased to be outdone. You may say not a
word about excelling, present no prize, and accord not the
least external distinction, and still the native emulation of
many will not permit them to be easily excelled. I have
no objection to this natural and gentle operation of the
principle in question, provided that envy and other
unhappy feelings do not intrude into its company. I
would even say that there are some cases in which I would
take pains to excite emulation to keener action. There is
now and then a dull and sluggish soul, which needs the aid
of such a stimulant. Or, to use the language of the ingen-
ious lecturer before alluded to, " there are those doubtful
and discouraged natures, who view the summits of learn-
ing, and despair to scale them." I say with him, that " in
such hearts this quickening fire needs to be lighted up,"
that is, I would add, if all better and nobler motives fail of
i
effect. But that these few may be properly iBfTected, it is
not necessary to continue that system of external and
graduated distinctions, now in general use. The dull and
sluggish, the doubtful and discouraged, better go directly
to the manual drudgeries of life, than that others, many or
few, should rankle with the prick of a goad, they do not
need. But under the operation of this system, let it be
repeated, where one of the above mentioned unfortunate
natures is happily excited, two are made more inveterately
stupid, or plunged into a gloomier despair.
Permit me now to propose a substitute for the objection-
able principle, which may be brought, I think, to bear with
no small effect on the minds and efforts of the young. I can
call this substitute by no better name than self-emulation.
Let the young be encouraged to study, from a comparison
of themselves with themselves. One of the first princi-
ples developed in our nature, is the love of increasing
FIXING THE ATTENTION OF THE YOUNG. 51
power. The child delights to excel himself — to do more
than he has ever done before. What beaming pleasure on
the countenance, when he can take a few more steps with-
out falling, or can lift and hold with his httle hands a larger
and heavier article, or when he has mastered in articulation
and memory another word ! Now let this principle be
seized on early, and used continually. When the pupil
enters school, let the teacher, as far as may be, acquaint
himself with his natural capacities, and with the acquisitions
already made. Let a record of these be put in a book,
kept for this purpose. Let this record be the starting
point, from which his future progress is to be measured.
Let him be made acquainted with his own condition and
capabilities, and receive approbation in proportion as he shall
rise above this point. Let the pupil be continually referred
to his past condition, as one from which he is continually to
distance himself, according to the ability naturally possess-
ed, for this is always to be taken into the account ; then, if
progress be unavoidably slow, the endeavor will receive the
commendation. In this way there need be no straining
and abuse of nature, no anxiety of heart ; the path of
learning may be one of pleasantness and peace.
In this spirit of self-comparison and self-surpassing, there
is a rivalship which can do no harm. Here, too, is a rival
always present, if I may continue thus figuratively to speak.
Self is always present with self. The exertions cannot
be relajTed for the want of the exciting cause.
This emulation may be applied to the whole man — to
moral as well as intellectual improvement. Let the moral
character be always taken into the account and put on the
register likewise. It has been an exceeding and very lament-
able mistake, that the mental and moral education have
been so separated, or rather, perhaps, that the moral has
been so utterly neglected on all hands. Whoever has the
charge of a young mind, should be a moral educator ;
62 MR BURTON'S LECTURE.
should be as well qualified in this respect as in every
other ; should be as scrupulous and unweariedly assiduous
in this respect as in any other. But I will defer further
remark on this topic to another head of my lecture. Let
me now insist that the condition and character of the
whole mind be registered, from time to time, in the appro-
priate book. This registry is a very important particular.
The remembrances of both teacher and pupil are more or
less evanescent, and may be inaccurate. They may not
correspond with each other, any more than business ac-
counts which buyer and seller carry only in the memory.
But black and white, which both agree upon at the time,
cannot afterward be disputed. These notations strike the
senses and thereby give impulse to the feelings. They are
like milestones on the way, to inform how far we have come
and with what speed we are moving.
In the examinations of schools and colleges, let the
record be open to those appointed to examine the classes.
Let them be open to the inspection of any one, and
especially of the anxious relatives and interested friends of
the pupil, that they may know his exact merits through
the whole course. How little, how very little do parents
know of the condition and character of their sons in col-
lege. As to their intellectual standing, the parts, as they
are called, indicate something, but nothing very accurately.
If a young man receives a low part or none at all, his con-
fiding friends are easily made to believe that the college
dispensers of honor have been unjust. But of the moral
character of a son, the parents in general know absolutely
nothing. They can judge only from the exhibitions of
himself he makes at home. If the youth happens to re-
ceive the distinction of rustication or dismission, it must
of course be supposed that all is not right. But even these
notorious tokens of disapprobation, do by no means accu-
rately indicate the character. Sometimes the simple-
FIXING THE ATTENTION OF THE YOUNG. 53
hearted and quite innocent, having been allured into some
sportive enterprise, are detected and punished, although
their moral character in general may be incomparably supe-
rior to many who hold the noiseless but dark and devious
tenor of their way. Instances could be mentioned, in
which parents have rejoiced that their sons were so diligent
and orderly at the distant seminary, when at this very time,
these loved and hopeful ones were among the most idle
and dissolute.
Now, in the proposed registry of character, there can be
no deception, no escape. At any time the scholarship
and the morals may be ascertained, by making the proper
reference. What if friends be mortified and the youth put
to shame ? Is it not better, than that his time and money be
utterly thrown away, and perhaps his constitution be in-
jured or his morals corrupted for life ? But such mortifica-
tion and shame will very seldom take place. The youth
will understand at the threshold of the seminary, the sys-
tem to be pursued and the destiny awaiting. He knows
that a map of his whole character is to be drawn, as far as
it is discoverable, and that this is to be open to the inspec-
tion of all, and to remain in the archives of the institution,
to be traced by all his friends, and even descendants, who
may enter or visit the seminary, forever afterwards. Now
should the student know all this beforehand, and be con-
tinually conscious of it as he proceeds, he would, I doubt
not, commence with an impulse, go on with a momentum,
and close with an improvement and an honor, which
would cause the venerable Alma Mater, now slumber-
ing in her prejudices, to rejoice most heartily that she
had at length awaked from her ancient repose. The
instances of mortification and shame would be far less
numerous. than they are now, as seldom as mortifying and
shameful ihings now come to light. I believe that self-
emulation would be a very general feeling, and self-improve-
ment the general aim and attainment.
54 MR BURTON'S LECTURE.
" But this system will cost quite too much trouble. It
will require a minuteness of supervision which cannot be
afforded. The plan is not feasible." In answer to this
objection it may be observed, that it is more than probable
that the time and money now expended in the long run, in
managing the refractory, quelling rebellions, and repairing
depredations, would be amply sufficient for the constant
and minute supervision of the plan proposed. But if it
be not so, let all pomp, show and circumstance be abolished
which do not confer a greater good on our seminaries than
might be obtained in some other way, at the same expense.
Why shall usages be retained simply because they are
usages? It is the best possible education of the greatest
possible number that we want, and nt the least possible
cost consistent with the greatest good on the whole. Must
the great and widely scattered public suffer, that the pleas-
ant literary associations of a few may be kept fresh and not
Jose their hold on the heart ? I have no particular objec-
tions, however, against the customary literary festivals. All
I would urge, is that they had better be abolished than that
such minute and particular attention should not be given
to each individual as to confer on him the most thorough
mental and moral education. Let the great end be kept
always broad in view, and the most direct course be taken
towards that end. Let the paths of education, like those
of business, be straight. The people of the country in
visiting the city, make the most of time and money. They
do not wind along the ancient and crooked, but more
verdant and flower-scented ways, they take the turnpike
and the rail-road. So it should be with those they employ
to educate their children. Their road should be straight ;
and they should adopt, moreover, whatever new and real
facilities, invention may from time to time bring to light.
It may be thought that too much is expected from this
hooTcing of character and this self-emulation. It is replied
FIXING THE ATTENTION OF THE YOUNG. 55
that these are but a part of the system ; these alone, truly
may not produce the effect above anticipated. Light
should be thrown on the student's way,, and impulse given
■ to his heart in connexion with these. For instance, the
I student should have instruction respecting his nature and
destiny, such as hitherto has been very uncommon in
schools and colleges. The young have generally entered
and continued in these institutions as thoughtless and indeed
as ignorant of the real objects of existence and ends of
education, as they were of the particulars of a science which
had not yet been discovered. They go to college, for in-
stance, because custom has made a course there necessary
to what are called the learned professions. Or they go to
attain a respectability of standing which they could not
otherwise possess.
At academies and common schools no better views, nor
generally so good, could be expected to prevail. Now
such are the motives with which parents send their children
to the places of learning, and such are the motives with
which their children go, if they go from any other motive
than that they are sent. And are they imbued with a
loftier spirit by their instructers ? Most certainly not in
general. Now it ought not to be thus. A child should
be taught as early as he is capable, his real nature and
great destiny. He should be taught that his true self is a
soul and not the material, sensual and perishable body. Let
him know that this is but the " house he lives in," to quote
the apt language of a benefactor of youth. Make him
realize that the house was made for the inmate and not the
inmate for the house. Make him realize that himself, that
is, this invisible but conscious soul, shall not and cannot
die as the body does. Let him understand that going to
school — that education has reference to a future life — to
eternity as well as to time. That indeed it may make him
more respectable and useful, comfortable and happy in this
56 MR BURTON'S LECTURE.
life, but the principal end is the life to come. Teach him
that every step forward in true knowledge, is an advance on
an endless way ; that every new truth he acquires is his
forever — a treasure as it were, laid up in Heaven ; and
that increasing strength and facility is a preparation for,
and an approach to, that ability necessary to climb the
heights, gather the riches, and wear the glories of the
spiritual universe. I would of course use a simpler mode
of expression than this, always adapting the language to the
young comprehension. Now, fill the pupil's soul and fire
his aspirations, as early as possible, with these ideas,
and let them glow with an increasing faith and fer-
vency, as he shall proceed from stage to stage, and with
what exceeding effect may they be brought to bear on the
later periods of his education. Then the sciences of the
material creation will be presented to him, in all their beau-
tiful details and magnificent extent ; then the principles of
that mind will be more clearly unfolded, by which he has
dominion over the Divine works, and by which, like the
Infinite Maker himself, he has a glory above the heavens.
And then he cannot but feel how unworthy of himself is
idleness, and how utterly beneath himself and abominable,
is that sensuality into which the young man is now so prone
to fall. When the young shall thus duly realize that the
great end, not only of this life but of eternity, is the growth
of the soul, how will self-emulation take hold of the spirit
with ever-abiding and ever-impelling power. They will
constantly realize that it is as much their nature and destiny
to rise perpetually above their present selves, as it is to think
and to feel. To catch the beautiful figure of the lecture
on emulation, of last year, that ladder which the sleeping
patriarch saw in his dream, will be placed before the youth
without a vision ; its foot supported by earth, its summit
leaning on the skies. Most truly the ladder will be before
him without those evil remembrances, class emulation and
FIXING THE ATTENTION OF THE YOUNG. 57
personal rivalry. He may not be unconscious of the radi-
ant way, and active steps of ascending companions, but his
intenser thoughts will be given to the beckoning angels,
leaning with sweet sympathy from the heavenly verge, and
to the glorious avenues that open endlessly upward and
beyond.
It may be said by some, that these grand views of the
soul and its destiny, are already inculcated in the religious
instructions of the Sabbath. It may be so, but this is not
enough ; this instruction has but little effect. Preaching
is formal and periodical, and always expected. And it is
generally too abstract and loftily rhetorical — too far away
from common thoughts, associations, and pursuits. Oh no !
it is not to the Sabbath-day preacher that only or princi-
pally belongs the work of making the youth realize that
he is studying for eternity. It is the duty of his daily in-
structers. The idea must be impressed in connexion with
the exercises by which the youth feels that he is growing
stronger and greater. It should be presented incidentally
and unexpectedly, and not formally and merely on antici-
pated occasions. Let not the instructor sit up like an au-
tomaton, and in heartless dignity put question after question
in respect to the ideas, or what is too often the case, the
mere words of the text book, with about as much anima-
tion and seeming interest as the time-piece on the desk
before him, which ticks the moments, and tells the end
of the uncomfortable and spiritless hour. Oh no ! but let
him show that he really possesses a living soul, and one
that feels a tender sympathy for the living souls around.
Let him act the father or the brother, and mingle affection-
ate conversation with his questions and instructions. Let
there be a cheerful ease and familiarity ; then while his pupils
feel an intense pleasure in the acquisition of knowledge and
the play of their faculties, drop the suggestion, breathe into
them the faith, that this acquisition and mental action are to
8
58 MR BURTON'S LECTURE.
bear eternal process and an eternal and deepening delight.
In respect to self-emulation, there is another important ad-
vantage. The kind and animating sympathies of class-
mates are not put to flight, as in the case of the other kind
of emulation. A scholar cannot possibly desire to be ex-
celled by another, but he can most heartily desire that
another may excel his own self. Indeed the self-emulation
may be excited to greater intensity by the sympathetic in-
terest of companions. There is not necessarily any op-
posing feeling, any food for envy. There is no invidious
deference to natural talents, to the neglect and dishonor of
inferior capacities. On the contrary, the humble mind will
be as much an object of friendly interest as the richly gift-
ed, provided that a good heart and an aspiring will go
with it. That there may be a sympathy of one with
another and a mutual aid, let the precise condition and
character of each, as put on the register, be known to all.
Let each one be made to stand out before all the rest in
his true intellectual proportions, and with all the lights and
shades of his moral character distinctly perceived. Then
every one who shall burn with the desire to grow in intel-
lect or wax purer in heart and habits, cannot but receive
the well wishes, the plaudits and the respect of his fellows.
And his clearly observed example, moreover, cannot but in-
cite to imitation. Each one will catch light and zeal from
every other one, to aid him on his self-triumphant course.
But self-emulation is not the only, nor the noblest feeling
to which we may safely appeal. I believe that the highest
and purest moral principles may be brought to influence
the mind in its education, and this with an effect not now
generally conceived possible. Let us begin with benevo-
lence. This is one of the first principles that should be
cultivated, and it must be cultivated or it will not certainly
be possessed to that extent which was designed. Human
nature is selfish, particularly at first, from the very constitu-
FIXING THE ATTENTION OF THE YOUNG. 59
tion with which it starts on the course of Hfe. Benevolence
must therefore be assiduously cherished from without ; it
has not sufficient innate and instinctive strength like the
selfish principles. From the earliest age, let the doing of
good and the making of others happy, be set before the child
not so much in words, as in actions ; let him see the beauty
and feel the power of benevolent example. Present him
continual opportunities of realizing the happiness of confer-
ring pleasure on others. Let him be brought up to have
nothing done for him which he can as well do for himself,
thereby saving others the trouble. From his earliest ability,
habituate him to be useful, and to feel himself fortunate and
happy to be useful. Let him delight to take care of, and in-
struct his younger brothers and sisters. Especially, let him
realize the great good his own perfect example would do
them. As his mind enlarges with knowledge, let it also ex-
pand with large and comprehensive schemes of philanthropy
toward a community, a country, a world. I repeat it, let
this feeling be early developed, and constantly deepened
and strengthened by careful cultivation, and it may be
made a powerful incitement to study. If the benevolent
child finds that he can benefit a younger child by impart-
ing to him his own acquisitions, he will be induced to in-
crease these acquisitions. He will know that the greater
his own application, the more he can gratify that kindness
which blesses the giver even more than the receiver. He
will realize also that the good he may do in distant man-
hood will essentially depend on the discipline and acquire-
ments of his education. I see not why the feeling thus
early developed, may not accompany the scholar through
the whole course with an increasing power.
In this connexion I would inquire, whether the system of
mutual instruction might not be partially adopted with a
success not generally apprehended. The human mind is
essentially active ; it likes not only to acquire and receive,
60 MR BURTON'S LECTURE.
but it likes, or it may be taught to like to communicate. It
is pleased in producing effect, in shedding an influence
abroad upon others. Let this principle be seized on and
turned to happy advantage. Let the scholar receive but
to communicate, grow strong but to impart strength. All
whose business it has been at any time to teach, know with
how much greater interest they have reviewed old acquisi-
tions, and also sought after new, than ever before, on
being called on to impart of their stores to others. Their
faculties put forth with an energy, and grasped and held
with a success, they seldom experienced when usefulness
was seen only in the distance. Why then shall not the
learner at school, have the advantage of being a teacher at
the same time ?
I am aware that there are strong objections to the system
in the minds of many ; but do not these objections arise
from difficulties that may be removed by a better organiza-
tion of schools, and by the introduction of better motives
and a better spirit into the scholar's mind ? In the first
place, let the art of communication be considered one of
the great and important aims in education. Certainly the
ability to impart one's ideas to others is of the highest use
in life, and is the source of a very large portion of our
social happiness. But how few there are who possess this
ability in much perfection, for the lack of early and contin-
ued training. Let the pupil then as early as possible, be
taught to communicate what he h£is received, and as far as
practicable for the benefit of others. Let him do it with a
feeling of benevolence as well as in obedience to regulation.
Let the smiling air and bland manners of the companion
appear, instead of the haughty and domineering demeanor
of the monitor. Moreover, let that great moral principle,
conscience, of which I shall soon speak, be made early, con-
tinually, and faithfully to do its office, and I think that the
objections to mutual instruction will be far less than the
FIXING THE ATTENTION OF THE YOUNG. 61
advantages. All must perceive how it would strengthen
the motives to diligence in study. It will permit large
scope to some of the most interesting principles of our
nature — for instance, the love of effect towards and influ-
ence over others, as mentioned before, and besides this
the desire of doing good, and still further, the desire of
the affections of others, for no one can impart to another
in a proper spirit without receiving in return a portion of
the recipient's heart.
Let us now ascend still higher in the scale of moral cul-
tivation. Let us bring the principle of conscience to bear
on the efforts to juvenile improvement. This the crowning
feeUng, the queen of all the human principles, must not
certainly be neglected. But hitherto how has it been neg-
lected in the education of the young. They have indeed
been generally taught not to violate the commands of God
in great and very prominent instances, to hold sacred and
unbroken at least the ten commandments ; but conscience
has not been generally educated to sit in judgment on the
thousand little actions and words, dispositions and motives,
which really make up and indicate the character. Let the
child be early and deeply impressed with the idea, that the
laws of God extend to the minuteness of character. Let him
feel that he must religiously refrain from every, even the
very least, action, word, tone, or look that needlessly pro-
duces unpleasant feelings in another. Let him be taught
that it is not only his pleasure but his duty, to contribute
as far as is possible, to the happiness of others. Let
him be habituated — let exceeding care be taken that he
should be habituated — to obey the dictates of conscience
implicitly and instantaneously. Let him feel that this
inward voice is as much to be heeded as would be the voice
of God in intelligible words from the opening heavens.
Thus, if the small things of character are brought under the
cognizance of conscience, the greater of course, cannot
but b6 subjected to the same authority.
62 MR BURTON'S LECTURE.
But what has all this to do with the motives to attention ?
It has much to do with them, as I think will easily appear.
If conscience is rendered sensitive and authoritative to the
extent suggested, it will certainly require of the child and
youth, that he most scrupulously improve his time and op-
portunities for cultivating those faculties by which he is to be
happy and to make others happy. And indeed, let special
address be made to conscience in respect to study, and this
principle, so sensitive, watchful, and peremptory on other
points, cannot but do its proper office on this. The waste of
time, the abuse of privileges, and the neglect of the immor-
tal mind, will appear to the scholar with the hideous aspect
of sin, from which his moral nature will shrink, resolving
that it shall not be.
Let a deep self-reverence be generated in the young.
As they shall be able to receive it, let them realize that
their minds come directly from the holy inspiration of God ;
that they are as it were, the miniature image of God, which
education shall expand into a more and more perceptible
and glorious likeness of the Divine Original. We can
hardly convey too exalted a sentiment in regard to the god-
like nature and destiny of the soul ; for the utmost stretch of
imagination cannot surpass the truth. Let the young be
early and abidingly penetrated with the sentiment, and it
will be as a good angel, strengthening them against tempta-
tion and aiding them onward.
Let none say that this is mere speculation and fancy.
Argue not against it from the present moral aspect of the
world. History tells me that the young Spartan was train-
ed to steal, and then to meet death through excruciating
torture rather than incur discovery and disgrace. The Hin-
doo will fling himself beneath the crushing wheels of his
idol, and the widow of the same nation will lie down to
consume on the funeral pyre of her husband, impelled by
a superstition, perfectly at war with common sense. The
FIXING THE ATTENTION OF THE YOUNG. Q3
Indian exercises an exulting fortitude as he slowly burns
at the stake. Innumerable facts teach me the abiding
power of early and assiduous training. Now, when I
know all this, I have the hope, the faith, indeed the
certainty, that the moral nature of man may be made pure
and strong by right religious influences, to a degree, hither-
to unrealized and hardly imagined. The great power of
Christian motives, seasonably and properly instilled, has not
yet in general, been experienced. Let not this power be
doubted till it shall have been tried. I rejoice that the
bearing which moral education has upon intellectual, is be-
ginning to be understood. It is notorious how this has
been almost altogether neglected in our seminaries. Now
let the truth be spread abroad, that the heart must be taken
care of first. In the earlier years, let time be taken to
watch every indication of the affections. Make use of
every available incident for moral improvement. Let the
chief concern be the care of the feelings, and the spare
moments be given to the understanding, instead of the
reverse, as has been the case, and before the close of the
educational course, it will be found that the understanding
has not been a loser. Purify the moral atmosphere from
the elements of obscurity and storm, and the eagle intellect
will instinctively soar on high, seeking the source of light.
Before leaving the subject, there is one more considera-
tion to be mentioned, and this of exceeding importance
toward fixing the attention of the young. It is that the
attention of the teacher be given — intensely given, to his
work. How seldom has this been the case in the past.
Study has not been more irksome to the learner than the
direction of that study has been to the teacher. His exer-
tions have been forced and mechanical, like those of the
pupil. And who can blame him for disgust at his occupa-
tion, when it was to teach words without the meaning, rules
without their application ; and when he felt himself obliged
64 MR BURTONS LECTURE.
to resist the impulses of young and innocent nature. No
wonder that temporary necessity alone drove so many of
the younger, and fastened so many of the older, to the em-
ployment. But the age so hard both to teacher and taught
— iron indeed it has been — is now passing away; the
golden era of education has dawned ; blessed auspices
are brightening around. The educator is no longer to be a
whip-holding task-master — a daily prison-keeper, hateful
to the eyes of his charge. The new philosophy of educa-
tion that is prevailing, will change the whole aspect of the
vocation. The teacher's toil will become a pleasure. If
there is any employment into which the whole mind and
heart and strength may be put, it is that which directly
operates on the immortal soul ; that which makes this soul
continually sensible of an increasing capacity to receive,
and an increasing power to confer happiness.
The vocation of the instructer is an everlasting vocation.
I see not why the relation between the teacher and the
taught may not exist in heaven and through eternity,
though not between the same individuals perhaps as here
on earth. It is altogether rational to suppose that the
social felicities of the future, may in part arise from the com-
munication of knowledge, by the more advanced to the less.
Now the duties of a vocation more heaven-like than any
other here below, rightly performed, must be as full of inter-
est and pleasure as any duties whatever, given mortal man
to perform. Surely, if the teacher feels this, as he must
feel it, is he true to his calling, the interest that will kin-
dle in his features, flow from his tongue, and which will pos-
sess and inspire the whole man, will pass into his quickly
sympathizing pupils. Let the fervent spirit of a loved in-
structer be breathed toward, be poured upon, the young
and opening soul, and it will be received.
But before this mutual happiness can be realized, much
is to be done. Our schools in general are to be remodelled.
ON FIXING THE ATTENTION OF THE YOUNG. 65
And the public mind is to be enlightened, that this re-
modelling may not be opposed and delayed by blind pre-
judice. The instructer must diligently aid in diffusing light.
Let him not wait till knowledge shall happen, by accident
or in the long course of things, to fall into the possession of
his patrons. Let him go after it, and carry it to them, and
insinuate it upon them. If need be, let him set his face
boldly against a multitude, and dare to hft up a solitary
voice — and great shall be his reward. O let him not pro-
ceed tamely, in the old track, because habit may have made
it mechanically easy, or for the fear that a departure may
displease ignorant employers and put in some jeopardy his
livelihood. What I I would say to such a one, what !
would you keep your own out-putting, up-going, and glori-
ous nature subdued to the semblance of a machine, whose
operation is to subdue similar natures to be similar machines,
and all to go round and round together at the same unva-
rying pace, and with the same unvarying creak and clatter ?
You a man and an immortal, and do this, when you might
be aiding the young soul to unfold its arch-angelic wings,
and teaching it to soar toward its destined heaven ! I have
not language whereby to express the dishonor you do your
vocation — the degradation in which you hold yourself.
Go, go, you have mistaken your work and your place.
Your work is to handle and weigh and measure gross, dead
matter ; your place is where the music you most love, the
clink of coin or the rustle of its representative, may daily
rejoice your ear. The heaven-born and heaven-destined
soul is not for you to come near as a director and an
example.
Indeed, no one should engage in education with merely
mercenary motives. Like the religious teacher, the educa-
tor of the young has the care of souls. He should en-
gage with motives such as the soul's infinite destiny should
naturally inspire. The image of the holy God is committed
9
66 MR BURTONS LECTURE.
to his keeping ; unclean hands will soil it, careless hands
will permit it to be soiled.
One should become an educator, because he is peculiarly
fitted for the work, and because he loves the work. He
should not consider the material emolument as his principal
reward. He should find this rather in the expansion, given
by his vocation to his own nature ; in that lofty benevolence
which delights to make others more wise and pure and blest ;
in those overflowing measures of gratitude, which cannot but
be poured back into his own bosom by the happy recipients
of good. It is, moreover, given to him to rejoice in the hope
that the friendships, formed here between him and his
pupils, may continue into the future and make a portion of
heavenly felicity. Finally, he is permitted to behold, with
the eye of faith, the approving smiles of those guardian
angels of the young, who ever behold the face of their
Father in Heaven. Verily, great, great is his reward.
LECTURE II.
IMPROVEMENT WHICH MAY BE MADE
CONDITION OF COMMON SCHOOLS.
Br STEPHEN FARLEY.
IMPROVEMENT OF COMMON SCHOOLS.
It is needless, before this audience, to enter on any de-
tail of evidences to prove it to be matter of paramount
importance to the community, that the condition of our
common schools should be healthful and prosperous. It is
from them that the great mass of our population derive
whatever of that precious article called learning, it is
their lot in life, ever to possess. And the intimate con-
nexion between popular knowledge and the permanence
of our free institutions, civil and religious, is so generally
understood, that it would be superfluous, on the present
occasion, to attempt either to confirm, or illustrate, the
doctrine of it. An enlightened mind cannot, for a moment
doubt, that, vi^ere our common schools to cease, our national
character would inevitably and rapidly degenerate ; that wc
should soon be dispossessed of that proud eminence, in re-
gard to popular privilege and moral strength, for which we
have, hitherto, been happily distinguished from other great
communities of mankind.
The subject itself of this lecture, seems to assume the
fact that our common schools are 710^ in the best condition,
and that we have the power of ameliorating them. And if
the case be truly such, it is a serious one, and demands
speedy and earnest attention. For where tlic power ol
70 MR FARLEY'S LECTURE.
amelioration exists, it is important that, without delay, it be
brought into exercise.
We propose three inquiries —
1. What is the existing condition of the schools, and
what are the defects of it ?
2. What broad measure can be taken with a view to
improve it ?
3. By what means may this measure arid others, be
greatly facilitated, set in operation, and rendered efficient?
What then is the condition of the schools, and under
what defects are they laboring ? The common schools pro-
vided for and supported by the laws of the State, and more
especially those in the country toivns, are the ones we now
have in view. These, perhaps, constitute nine-tenths of
the whole ; and they are the schools whose condition so
much needs to be improved. The public schools, in this
city of Boston, are, we believe now, and have long been,
comparatively in a prosperous state ; approaching toward
what they ought to be ; and what all schools should be
throughout the country. This may also be the fact in
regard to the towns of Salem, Newburyport, Lowell,
Portsmouth, Portland, Hartford, New Haven, &c. But
the great mass of the population is without the' limits of
the great towns, and the condition of the schools in them,
furnishes no example from which we can judge of it, in
the country at large.
We will not, on this head, speak positively, but in the
way of hypothesis. Suppose, then, that the case is as fol-
lows : That every district school in New England is kept
for the term of one quarter, every year, by a master ; and
for another term, of the same length, by a mistress : That
the teachers are exchanged every year ; so that each one
instead of following up a course previously commenced, is
under the necessity of instituting a new one, suited well
or ill to existing circumstances ; that the arrangement of
IMPROVEMENT OF COMMON SCHOOLS. 71
the school devolves entirely on the teacher, being, from
necessity, the product solely of his, or her judgment, ex-
perience, and talent, be these what they may. The teacher
is compelled to rely wholly upon his individual strength for
the regulation, government, and success of the school,
whether he be competent for it, or otherwise. Suppose
that, in the article of government, there are, every year,
many failures ; some in every town, more or less entire ; it
being an obvious fact that this has now become a far more
difficult thing than it was, half a century ago, when every
child, as soon as it could speak plainly and walk alone,
was taught with the utmost gravity, to say Yes, Sir ; Yes,
Ma'am ; pronouncing the title with an emphasis ; and to
make obeisance to every man and woman it should meet
in the public ways ; when the sentiment of reverence to-
ward its superiors was so early and deeply implanted, that
it was believed to be a natural instinct ; whereas, now it is
one of the harrfest tasks to effect its being implanted in
the minds of youth ; a prevalent impatience of restraint
and a kind of wild libertinism, seeming to have seized the
minds of the rising generation. Suppose further, that in
consequence of the many failures in the article of govern-
ment, it has become a fact that the teacher's reputation
and competence for his work, have come to depend chiefly
on that one thing, and to it, of course, his attention is
chiefly directed. That his anxiety and endeavors are, to
sustain his own proper authority as master, and to have
what will be accounted a well-governed school ; and this
he knows he cannot have, without the greatest assiduity
and bestowing upon it the principal part of his time. So
that the business of instruction becomes one of only se-
condary consideration, and perhaps little in that line is
accomplished. That when the committee visit the school,
they come as mere lookers on, nothing of the character of
a proper inspection or examination is gone into ; it is only
72 MR FARLEY'S LECTURE.
an exhibition ; and if the scholars conduct properly, and
read and rehearse flippantly what they have read and conned,
and repeated scores of times before, the whole passes off
well, the school is applauded, and the master, having ac-
quitted himself to satisfaction, retires, as the cant phrase is,
with flying colors. And yet, perhaps, he has done as well as
the circumstances of his situation admitted, though his
pupils may have been advanced but a very short distance
in the road to learning.
Suppose, moreover, that, in a great part of the schools,
there is a sad deficiency of proper books ; one of the pre-
ceding masters having exerted himself, with some success,
to introduce one kind of books, and another master a dif-
ferent kind ; and a third some other kind ; and it is now
necessary to class the scholars, not according to their stand-
ing, but according to the kind of books with which they
happen to be furnished. That, in addition, the master
finds the habits of many of the older scholars utterly
averse from the studies and the course upon which he
wishes to put them ; they have ciphered through their
arithmetic, but never attended to geography, or grammar, or
philosophy, or history, nor are they willing to do it. And
they have not the proper books, nor can the master cause
them to be procured. Let all these things be supposed,
and the supposition will not, we fear, diflfer much from the
reality ; for it has not been our intention to fabricate a
caricature, but to exhibit a fact. If the representation be
not exactly true, it is, generally considered, far more just
than our hearts could wish it were.
The defects are various. Many schools are badly gov-
erned. Others are poorly instructed ; not so much from
incapacity in the master, as for want of time. He cannot
attend to two things at once, and do justice to both.
Sometimes a teacher is obtained who will surmount the
difficulties of his place, and have a well-governed, and a
IMPROVEMENT OF COMMON SCHOOLS. 73
well-instructed school. Such, however, are rare instances.
We cannot find a supply of teachers from that description
of persons, whom nature has peculiarly gifted for the task
of controUing the minds, and winning the affections of the
young.
It is a great defect in our schools, that the course of
studies in them, is so irregular and disjointed. One course,
so far as it can be so named, is adopted this year, and a
different course the next. It is a great disadvantage, that
one master cannot begin where the preceding one left off;
that there cannot be a systematic course pursued from year
to year, in constant succession.
Too much responsibility devolves on the teacher. He
needs a support which he does not find. An Aaron and
a Hur should be at his side, and stay up his hands. Nor
will the condition of our school establishment be essen-
tially improved until some aid of this description be fur-
nished. A more adequate provision must be made for the
conduct and supervision of the schools. They cannot be
prosperous until the mode of regulating them be more
competent ; till they be better supervised.
It is unavailing to complain of inadequate pecuniary
support. Let this be augmented two fold or three fold,
it will not radically change the character of the schools.
Nor is it in point, to complain of the literary incompe-
tency of teachers. The best method of removing this
evil, is, to improve the condition of the school establish-
ment. If this be caused to rise, the scale of knowledge,
among instructors, will of course, rise with it. But the
literary competency of instructors will not, of itself, secure
a healthful habit to our schools. A man who is qualified
to teach and manage a high school, composed of orderly
scholars, with good success, may utterly fail in attempting
to keep a common one. For if he is under tlie necessity of
exerting incessantly every fiiculty of his nature, to govern
]0 "
74 MR FARLEY'S LECTURE.
the school ; if there is an untiring struggle between him and
the scholars, to determine which shall have the ascendency,
he or they ; what great good can it be expected, he will ac-
complish ? And for what he does, he will probably have no
credit. The whole district look on, and a great part of
them, as indifierent spectators. They in efTect, say to him,
" Here are our boys and girls ; take them as they are ; if
you can tame and manage them, we are satisfied ; if not,
you are a poor concern; whatever be your learning or
fidelity, you are not fit to have the charge of our school."
But this master is not content with the mere manage-
ment of his scholars. He began with a higher view ;
he wishes to benefit them. He wears down his strength
in endeavors to promote their progress in useful knowledge,
for this was his ultimate end. But it is casting pearls be-
fore swine. His scholars are daily contriving artifices to
vex him and to thwart his designs. And those who should
assist him, are amused, and laugh at the tricks played off
by the rogues, and thus the parents throw their influence
against the master, instead of casting it, as they ought, in
his favor.
The defects of school government are more easily per-
ceived than those of instruction. If a man effectually
contrive to maintain subordination among his pupils, the
defects of training them in learning, are generally out of
sight. But if his authority be disrespected, no amends are
allowed for what he has meritoriously done, in the way of
instruction.
We come to the consideration of our second inquiry :
Is there any broad measure, which, if adopted and ably
pursued, will be found a salutary remedy ? We believe
there is. We want a requisite, an enlightened, an efficient
supervision of the schools. Every public school ought to
be under the supervision of a committee or board, com-
posed of men whounderstnnd the duties of their office, and
IMPROVEMENT OF COMMON SCHOOLS. 75
are competent to a successful discharge of them. This is
the proper measure or means for improving the state of
the schools. Begin the work with providing an adequate
supervision. And this means is very simple — simple as
the laws of nature. And it is no innovation. It is a means
which has long been tried, and tried with success. The
high seminaries of learning, in all countries, have ever been
under the direction of a board of supervision. They could
not have stood without being planted on this foundation.
And the public schools, in the great towns of New Eng-
land, are regulated on this very principle. The master is
not the unlucky and the unwilling despot of the school.
He acts agreeably to prescription. He presides under a
constitution. The general regulations emanate from a
higher source. He is supported efficiently by an arm
which is always near, though not always actually present
and visible. He has his course marked out, and knows
what it is expected he will do, and on what he can rely.
But it is not expected of him that he should produce the full
tale of brick without being supplied with both the clay
and the fuel. And these schools are found to answer their
purpose. They are vineyards which yield much good fruit.
And we repeat it, all our schools should be placed on the
same foundation. And it requires nothing great, either of
expense, or of time, or of labor, could the work be rightly
commenced and followed, to set them on this foundation.
And the sooner it is done the happier. It is, we conceive,
the only foundation that will support the edifice. Let this
foundation be laid, and ere long the top stone will be car-
ried up ; and it will go up with shoutings and with bless-
ings. It may, by some, be thought an inevitable and
insuperable difficulty in the way of the proper execution
of the plan now proposed, that there would be a deficiency
of the requisite materials from which to constitute the com-
mittee of supervision. Many of the towns, it may be said.
76 MR FARLEY'S LECTURE.
do not contain men of adequate information and talent to
enable them to act efficiently in such a place. And some
who are capable of it, would not be willing to accept the
office. Thecommittees, of course, would be incompetent ;
the plan could not be carried into effective operation, and
the whole design would prove abortive.
In answer to this objection, we remark, that there is, we
conceive, no necessity that all the members of the school
committee should be inhabitants of that town for which
they serve, and by which they are appointed. The com-
mittee may in part, be taken from other towns in the
vicinity. Acting on this principle, no town need be desti-
tute of a competent committee. Though it cause some
additional expense, yet it would be inconsiderable, and by
no means onerous.
But even this uncommon measure, we conceive, will not
need to be adopted, in many instances, if indeed in any.
The facilities furnished by the means, of which we shall
soon make a suggestion, will, we believe, in a great meas-
ure surmount this difficulty, and render the work compar-
atively easy. The committees, in the towns generally, will
not have a new course to strike out for themselves ; it will
be sufficient for them to copy (with suitable alteration as
the circumstances of the places vary), and to follow, the
examples of the larger towns who shall have commenced
their course, and gone ahead. And the doing of this, will
not require any great literary qualification. It may be
done by men of good understanding, of some experience
and business talent, though they be not students or phi-
losophers.
We have now briefly suggested one fundamental
measure, which, when carried out into its proper details
and execution, could not, unless we exceedingly misjudge,
fail of being a happy means of raising the character, and
augmenting the usefulness of our common schools.
IMPROVEMENT OF COMMON SCHOOLS. 7?
In regard to details, we have not time to speak mi-
nutely. Whether any new enao-tment by the Legisla-
ture be requisite, we are not able to say. We presume
not, however, in this State of Massachusetts ; the statutes
make provision for a school committee. This committee,
we conceive, have power to prescribe the general regula-
.tions of the schools, to determine what books shall be
used, what studies may be pursued, what course shall be
followed, and what kind of penalties may be inflicted.
They can dismiss a teacher, if they see adequate cause,
and can exclude from school those scholars who will not
couie under requisite subordination. The committees,
however, do not generally take upon themselves all the func-
tions of this office. They visit the schools, but they do
not regulate them, nor examine them, nor aflford the
teacher any real assistance. Their visitations effect little
benefit. Speaking generally, we venture to say, they do
no good. But they might do much good, if they would
assume their proper responsibility and rank. And it is
upon them, we greatly depend, to ameliorate the character
of our schools.
We proposed, in the third place, to inquire, by what
means the general measure, just proposed, and others may
be efficiently facilitated, set in operation, and rendered suc-
cessful ? Our answer is in general terms ; it may be done
by means of tracts ; by publications, perhaps, chiefly em-
anating from this Institute of Instruction ; furnishing in-
formation and counsels on the subject of schools ; the
protocols of plans for conducting them, adopted in the
larger towns, and " now in the tide of successful experi-
ment"; containing lectures, extracts and synopses of
lectures, annually delivered before this Institute of Instruc-
tion ; and let these be sent into every district in the
Commonwealth. By this means, the bright lights which
shine within these walls, the atmosphere which is here
78 MR FARLEY'S LECTURE.
breathed, and which are in a manner, confined to the
area of this house, might be expanded, enjoyed, and
breathed, in every section of New England, and beyond
it. By this means, public sentiment would be enlightened ;
attention would be excited ; those whose part it is to act,
would be informed both of what they are to do, and how
it should be done. The whole concern might thus be
rendered practicable and effective.
But how shall the expense of these publications be de-
frayed ? For if they were merely thrown into the market,
they would not be circulated and read so extensively as
the cause, which they are designed to support, evidently
requires.
Would not the Legislature of the State, if the subject
were properly brought before it, make an appropriation
sufficient to cover this expense? The requisite sum would
not be large. One thousand dollars would probably be
adequate. This sum would not be more than half of one
per cent upon the amount of the moneys now assessed, by
tax, for the support of the public schools. The sum actu-
ally raised for this purpose, we will say, is two hundred
thousand dollars. It may be more. And it may be that
one half of that sum, under an improved method of con-
ducting and supervising the schools, would secure all the
learning, and consequently effect all the benefit, now
derived from the whole ; and of course, that the money,
now expended, might be rendered the means of accom-
plishing twice told the good, that is now realized from it.
Assuming this hypothesis, there could be no question as to
the expediency of making such an appropriation. For
there can be but one opinion concerning the good policy
of paying a premium of half of one per cent, in order to
double the amount of a great and important yearly revenue.
Nor let it be said, that all this calculation is totally wild
IMPROVEMENT OF COMMON SCHOOLS. 79
and imaginary. There is nothing in it incompatible with
known facts ; nothing irreconcilable with our past ex-
perience. And we believe there is nothing improbable.
All of us have known schools, and perhaps we see them,
every year, which have been of no value. The money
expended for the support of them was scarcely anything
short of absolute waste. The master received his wages,
and he may have earned them very hard too, but his em-
ployers and pupils received no equivalent. Some such
schools there are. And notwithstanding that those which
are totally useless, may not be very numerous, yet those
which are far less useful than schools ought to be, are numer-
ous indeed. And who of us is able safely to deny that the
general loss, throughout this Commonwealth, is less than
one half of what is expended ? It is true that on a sub-
ject of this description, we cannot arrive at a mathemati-
cal estimate. But the fact is manifest to all acquainted
with the general condition of the public schools, that a
very great proportion of them, are conducted upon a
plan so defective and disadvantageous, that much of the
really practicable profit expected from them, is not re-
ceived, but is utterly foregone.
We wish the times to come, when this State, and when
all the States in the American Union, shall have, as an
organ of their government, a board of education, whose
office it will be, to open and hold a correspondence on the
subject belonging to their department, to consult, devise,
and make report of needful and promising measures for
sustaining and improving the means of popular knowl-
edge and general education. The times, when every
teacher employed to take the charge of a school, shall
have his work, as far as this can be done, distinctly laid out
before him ; when he shall be caused to understand that he
will be duly sustained in carrying into effect all the prescrib-
ed regulations of the school, and that if he fail to fulfil the
80 MR FARLEY'S LEGTURE.
injunctions, laid upon him, he will be dismissed from em-
ployment; when the scholars, also, at the commencement
of the term, shall be made to understand what is expected
from them, and impressed with the conviction that they
must conform to all the laws of the school, or be excluded
from enjoying the privileges of it ; when the committees
shall visit schools for the purpose of real inspection, to
ascertain whether the instituted regulations are properly
observed, both on the part of the teacher and the pupils —
to see if the school be in a well-conducted and prosperous
condition ; — these times, when they shall have arrived, will
resemble " the times of restitution" ; knowledge will in-
crease ; wisdom and science be more and more, ' the sta-
bility of our times."
LECTURE III.
DUTIES OF PARENTS,
IN REGARD TO
THE SCHOOLS WHERE THEIR CHILDREN
ARE INSTRUCTED.
By JACOB ABBOTT.
11
DUTIES OF PARENTS.
The duties which devolve upon parents, in reference to
the schools where their children are to be educated, com-
mence with the first arrangements of securing a teacher.
The duty of selecting and engaging a teacher is usually
assigned, it is true, to a committee ; but in a country so
thoroughly republican as ours is, such a committee will
almost always act in accordance with what they suppose to
be the public voice. If, therefore, in their daily intercourse
with the various parents from whom they receive their
commission to act, they see indications of indifference, or
hear remarks implying that close economy is the main thing
to be consulted, it will make an impression upon them
which will have great influence when they come together
to act On the other hand, if the several members of such
a committee perceive that the community feel a special
interest in the business, that they are ready to sustain them
in effectual measures, and that parents are all looking for-
ward with interest to their decision, and to the arrangements
which they are to be the means of carrying into effect, they
will be animated and encourged. They will feel that their
duties are of some importance, and that they are felt to be
of importance by the community around them, and they
will accordingly be more circumspect, more cautious, and
more efficient in every step they take.
84 MR ABBOTT'S LECTURE.
A committee, in such a country as ours, generally pos-
sess far less real power than is usually supposed. It is
public sentiment which really decides ; the individuals
commissioned to act in behalf of the community, cannot
go much beyond this public sentiment, nor can they safely
fall far short of it. In fact, committees are chosen gener-
ally with reference not so much to the particular knowledge
they may have in regard to the nature of the business to
be entrusted to them, as to their knowledge of the circum-
stances and views of their constituents. To these circum-
stances and to these views they are justly expected to
conform ; so that actual measures in respect to all such
subjects as these, are really controlled by public opinion.
I. Allow us to say, then, to the parents whom this address
may reach, that the first duty which you have to discharge
in respect to the school, is to feel yourselves, and to do
what you can to awaken in others, an interest in it before it
is commenced. Converse about it with one another.
Assist in making inquiries in respect to a teacher, and
show, by the spirit and interest with which you enter into
the plan, that you feel it to be of great importance, and
that you are ready to sustain any proper efforts for securing
the full advantage which the system of public instruction,
under the most favorable circumstances, is able to confer.
Thus you give the cause an impulse at the outset. The
committee perceive that their action is attracting notice,
and is felt to be of importance, and consequently their
interest and vigilance are very much increased. Better
arrangements are made ; they look over a wider field, and
make a better selection of a teacher. The teacher per-
ceives, both by the tone of the correspondence, and by the
aspect which affairs present on his arrival in the district or
village, that the whole community are interested in his
work. He has not come to his new station of duty to go
through a mere routine, in which nobody is interested, and
DUTIES OF PARENTS. 85
which he may therefore perform in the dark, with indolence
and carelessness. His own interest in his work is quick-
ened by the friendly interest on the part of others, which
he sees all around him ; and the importance which he sees is
attached to his labors by his patrons magnifies their impor-
tance in his own view. This will not only tend to make
him industrious and faithful, but it will make his work a
pleasure. We all like to do what the community are inter-
ested in seeing us do, and there is nothing like being the
objects of friendly observation, to animate and quicken and
cheer every species of human toil.
II. Make proper efforts, and be willing to incur the
necessary expense, to secure the best teacher whom you
can obtain. In the selection of a teacher, there is very
frequently a great mistake made in overlooking the most
important qualification ; we mean interest in the young.
If a man reads well, and writes a handsome hand, and has
made good progress in arithmetic ; and if he is gentle-
manly in his person and manners, and of good character,
many a committee would consider his qualifications com-
plete. Many such men have been employed, and have
failed utterly in their attempts at teaching and governing
their pupils. The committee cannot understand what the
difficulty is. The first line on the pages in the boys'
writing-books, looks like copperplate ; — but all the others
continue, week after week, as bad as they ever were. The
master can solve at once all the hard problems which the
older boys bring him, by way of testing his skill, but yet,
some how or other, that row of little boys who were entan-
gled in the mysteries of simple division when he came, are
just as much entangled still. There is little improvement
in reading ; — little order, though there is great severity, —
and every few weeks the whole neighborhood is thrown
into excitement by the occurrence of some difficulty be-
tween the teacher and a scholar, — the parents and their
86 MR ABBOTT'S LECTURE.
friends insisting that the master is partial, unjust, and cruel,
and the master as firmly maintaining that the boy has the
most obstinate and sullen temper which he ever had any-
thing to do with. Thus between the scholarship of the
teacher and the ignorance and frailty of his pupils, there
is a great chasm, which interest and affection only could
close, and, unhappily, there is no interest or affection to
close it.
But you will ask, how can we know whether any partic-
ular teacher possesses, in addition to the proper literary
qualifications, this interest in the young, so necessary to
success ? You cannot tell until he has been tried. If the
candidate who offers himself for your school, has been a
teacher before, spare no trouble and expense in ascertaining
what was his actual success in securing the progress of his
pupils, his own ascendency over them, their good will, and
a spirit of subordination and quietness within his jurisdiction.
If you find that in these particulars he has been successful
on actual trial, especially if you find proofs of his having
taken a pride and a pleasure in the discharge of his
duties, and a personal interest in the pupils committed
to his care, spare no expense in securing his services.
No money is so well expended as that which is made really
to tell upon the moral and intellectual improvement of your
children. Many a man who has neglected their interests
when they were young, in order that he might save money,
or gain money, would gladly in his old age give up all the
land, or the bank stock which he had thus acquired, if he
could, by that means, repair the injury caused by his
neglect, and instead of being harassed by the evil deeds of
a wild, vicious, and abandoned man, who was once his
child, could be cheered and sustained in his old age, by an
industrious, virtuous, and dutiful son. No; — spare no
expense, which can be made really to tell upon the moral
and intellectual improvement of your children.
DUTIES OF PARENTS. 87
III. You can co-operate very powerfully with the
teacher whom you shall employ, by taking an interest in
his plans and labors, after he shall enter upon his work.
In order to do this effectually, consider his difficulties, and
the trying nature of the responsibiUties which devolve
upon him. You yourselves often get out of patience with
your children, though there are perhaps but half a dozen
under your care, while he has half a hundred. You have
only to govern them ; he has to govern the whole multitude,
and to carry all the individuals forward in their studies at
the same time. You are accountable to no human power
for your management of your family, but he is responsible
to many parents ; there are urged upon him from time to
time, many wishes, various and conflicting, and he finds all
around him expectations which it is impossible to fulfil.
Parents should consider these things as the inevitable diffi-
culties and trials of the teacher's lot, and do all in their
power, by the sympathy and the interest they feel for him,
to mitigate or remove them.
It is very decidedly for the interest of parents to do all
they can to make the teacher's situation agreeable to him,
for this reason, viz., his success will depend more upon the
pleasure he feels in his work than upon almost anything
besides. Teaching and governing your children is not a
mechanical business whose duties are well defined and
expHcit, so that you can secure the successful performance
of them by the cold compulsion of a contract. A spirit
of mutual interest and good will, makes any business go
smoothly, but it is almost absolutely indispensable to
secure success in a work in which the heart is so much
concerned, as in the business of teaching. If you have
agreed with a man to frame a house, or to get in a cer-
tain quantity of hay, or to collect a debt, or to build a
bridge, it will make comparatively little difference whether
you take any special interest in the manner in which he
does it or not. It will make comparatively little difference,
88 MR ABBOTTS LECTURE.
for these employments are of such a nature, that aman of
ordinary fidelity may be bound by a simple agreement to
attend to them properly, and he will perhaps, in most cases,
attend to them properly, if left to himself. There is a
certain standard of faithfulness, well defined and well un-
derstood, up to which any man of good character will
come almost of course, and beyond which he cannot go
very far, whatever may be the interest he may take in his
labor. But if you employ a man to write a Lyceum lec-
ture, the nature of the case is totally different. If he is a
man of good character, he will devote a fair proportion of
time and attention to it, but above the point to which his
general character for fidelity will carry him, there is room
for him to rise indefinitely, according as your interest in
what he is a doing shall awaken and invigorate his. In
other words, if a faithful man is executing some mechanical
labor, by friendly observation, and interest in his work, you
may lead him to do a little better, but in intellectual or
moral efforts you may lead him to do twice or three times
as well. If, while a man is mowing, his neighbors come
and look over him, his eflforts and success will be increased
perhaps five or ten per cent ; but if he is writing an ora-
tion, and knows that the community are waiting with
interest for its delivery, it will increase the spirit and suc-
cess of his effort a hundred or five hundred per cent. In
all business, then, you may quicken the energies of those
who are performing it, by friendly observation, but in busi-
ness in which the feelings or the intellect are concerned,
you may double or treble them. An intelligent congrega-
tion might almost make a dull minister eloquent, by the
application of this simple principle. Let them all come to
church punctually, — look the preacher full in the face
while he is speaking, — and make his sermon and the
sentiments it contains, the subject of friendly conversa-
tion during the week. The mind of the preacher would
DUTIES OF PARENTS. 89
soon feel the impulse. He would see that himself and
his performances were brought out into day, and thus the
action of minds around him would quicken and invigorate
his own.
The influence and the benefit of such friendly observa-
tion, are much more powerful and immediate in the case
of the teacher than in any other. But let it be remem-
bered, that by friendly observation we do not mean
watching the school to discover faults, nor attempting to
interfere in its management by advice, and proposals of
new plans, or modifications of existing arrangements.
This may be right sometimes, though seldom ; and at any
rate, such an influence is not what we refer to here. It is
friendly observation, — taking an interest in the plans
adopted, visiting the school, — observing its good points,
and sustaining and strengthening the teacher's hands.
IV. Submit cheerfully to the necessary arrangements
of the school, which are required for the general good.
When fifty families unite to support a school, each must
submit to some inconveniences in order to secure the
greatest good to all. In classifying scholars, one must be
put a little higher, and another a little lower than they
might go, were it not for the necessity of classification.
In the same manner, rules and regulations, adapted to the
general state of things in a school, must be more strict
than would be necessary for some of the older and better
scholars, and perhaps not as strict as would be desirable for
some others. It is the greatest good of the greatest num-
ber, which is really to be aimed at in the organization and
management of the school.
Whenever parents find fault with the manner in which
their own children are classed and taught, and the degree
of attention which is paid to them, they almost always
overrate the proportion of time and attention to which
12
90 MR ABBOTT'S LECTURE.
they are justly entitled. The following dialogue, not
wholly imaginary, will put this in a clear light.
A lady knocked at the door of a school-room and asked
to see the master. He came to the door and the following
conversation ensued.
Mother. I have been wanting to see you, sir, about
George. I do not think he is in the right class in Geogra-
phy ; he has been over that little Geography once, and I
do not see the use in his studying it any more. So I have
bought him a Worcester's Geography and should like to
have him study that.
Teacher. But we have no class in Worcester's Geog-
raphy.
Mother. Have you not ? Have you not any other class
in Geography besides the one he is in ?
Teacher. Yes, we have one in Woodbridge's larger
Geography, but it is composed of scholars very much older
than he is. I think he could not go on with them.
Mother. Well, then, I think I should rather have him
go on alone, than put in that little class.
Teacher. Just as you please, madam. I will make
any arrangement you choose, which I can make consist-
ently with my obligations to the other scholars. If he goes
on alone, you are aware I can devote but very little time
to him.
Mother. Well, if you do not devote more than ten
minutes to him, I should rather have him go on in Worces-
ter's Geography than continue as he is.
Teacher. But ten minutes would be a great deal more
than I could devote to him, consistently with the claims of
the others.
Mother. Why, sir, his father pays as much tax in pro-
portion as any man, and I think we have a right to expect
that our children shall receive their fair share of attention.
Teacher. Certainly, madam. But consider a moment
DUTIES OF PARENTS. 91
what his fair share is. T have sixty scholars, and there are
in the forenoon three hours only, making just three minutes
for each scholar. So that if I attend to my pupils sepa-
rately, I could not give more than three minutes to any one,
without giving the others cause of complaint. Now in
reading, writing, spelling, grammar, and arithmetic, and
other things, your son is classed with the other boys, so
that only a very small proportion of the three minutes
could be assigned to Geography. I should think not
more than a half a minute. I can hear him alone, de-
voting that time to him if you wish it, — or I can put him
in the large class, and let him get on as well as he can.
I supposed it would be better for him to be classed where
he is, but just as you please, I will make any arrangement
which you desire.
The mother looked perplexed ; and on making further
inquiries respecting the class in question, found that the
representations which she had taken without any question,
from her boy, were, as might have been expected, such as
to give very erroneous views of the state of the case ; she
therefore, very cheerfully withdrew her claim for separate
instruction.
Now we do not mean by such an illustration, or by
any of our remarks on this subject, that parents are
never to make any suggestions to the teacher about the
condition and progress of their children. Cases undoubt-
edly occur in which they ought to do so. But it would
be well for them always to be sure that they really under-
stand the facts rightly, before they propose changes, and
to take care to consider what is the fair proportion of
the teacher's time and attention, to which they are justly
entitled.
V. Do not judge the teacher on the testimony of your
children. There are a great many causes which should
prevent reliance generally on their evidence alone, and
92 MR ABBOTT'S LECTURE.
though there is perhaps no kind of testimony which is
more readily and unhesitatingly received, than the stories
children tell to their parents at home, about occurrences
at school, there is no kind which ought to be received with
more caution.
1. Children are liable to bias on account of the very
immaturity of their minds. Some judgment is necessary
in order even to understand and state facts ; for there are
very few transactions so clear and definite and precise in
their character, that the narrator must either describe them
just as they occurred, or else wilfully falsify. The judg-
ment is very much concerned, in all cases, so that even in
a court of justice, almost as much depends upon the intel-
ligence, as upon the honesty of the witness. This is espe-
cially the case in regard to such subjects as are usually
made matter of discussion between a teacher and the parent,
in respect to which the testimony of the child is usually so
unhesitatingly received. They relate perhaps to the nature
of his studies, to the manner in which he is classed, to
cases of discipline, the degree of guilt incurred, the degree
of severity used, the state of opinion among the other
scholars, and other similar topics. Now it is perfectly
plain that statements in regard to all such points, involve
not merely matters of fact, but matters of opinion ; or
rather the whole account which the child gives, is really a
statement of its own view of certain things observed, and
the parents, while they imagine that they are merely giving
the child credit for truth in telling what it has actually seen
are really taking, without question, its opinions on a subject
which it is utterly incapable of really understanding.
2. Again, children are peculiarly exposed to bias from
their feelings, in their statements about affairs at school.
A desire to have easier lessons, or to be put into a more
honorable class, or to be relieved from some wholesome
restraint, or to take the part of some playmate involved in
DUTIES OF PARENTS. 93
difficulty, and a thousand other similar feelings are very
likely to come in and color essentially their statements,
and especially their opinions, about what might seem, at
first view, to be merely a matter of fact. Now we do not
mention these feelings as very culpable, but only as sources
of bias which really exist, on the part of children, and of
which parents ought to be aware, that they may be on their
guard against the coloring which, from these causes, must
inevitably be given to their children's statements. It is
very natural that children should not like restraint, or that
they should sympathize with a companion in difficulty. It
is very natural too, that, when there is no intention of say-
ing what is false, the imagination of a child, excited by
these or similar feelings, should exert a very powerful influ-
ence upon his testimony.
Cases very often occur, in which parents, on statements
received from their children, come at once to a decision in
respect to them. They may decide to take some important
step, or may be even aroused to a feeling of indignation,
which they go forth to express by words or deeds, and find
when it is too late, that they entirely mistook the case.
They set the neighborhood in a flame, or come with angry
or threatening words to the committee or to the teacher,
and on a little explanation, find all the grounds and causes
of their anger actually slipping away from under them.
There is something a little ludicrous in the figure a man
makes, when he thus bristles into high displeasure at an
object, which when he comes up to it, and brings down a
determined blow upon its head, vanishes into air. Men
are often placed in such a condition, especially when they
allow their feelings to be aroused, in respect to any trans-
action, after hearing only one side. In such a world as
this, where there is so much useless and groundless anger,
we had all better make it a rule to be frugal of our indig-
nation, until we are pretty sure there is cause. Resent-
94 MR ABBOTT'S LECTURE.
ment, whether right or wrong, may sometimes be the means
of removing difficulties or rectifying abuses, — but it is a
very expensive and troublesome means, and the man who
is determined to employ it, ought, at least, to make sure of
the occasion.
3. Once more ; there is one other consideration which
ought to influence parents, in receiving their children's state-
ments. Many children will tell falsehoods, and the parent
is the last to suspect his own child. Now we are very far
from wishing to promote a habit of suspicion in parents.
Nothing can be more injurious. Children should be treated
with frankness, and their word never, or at least very sel-
dom, be openly called in question, unless there is clear and
positive evidence of its falseness. Still the fact that young
persons are so prone to undervalue truth, and to be led by
slight temptations to deviate from it, ought to make parents
very cautious about taking any important step, or even
forming a decided opinion in regard to transactions at
school, merely on their statement. Where is the man,
who can honestly say he never told a wilful falsehood in
his youth? He is scarcely to be found.
We have no doubt however that a very large proportion
of children can generally be depended upon in respect to
their word ; and ordinarily the less they are suspected, the
more faithful they will be. All we mean to say is, that
they are all peculiarly exposed, in case of strong tempta-
tion, to conceal or to prevaricate, and there are not a few
whose word is worthy of no confidence whatever. These
are generally more artful, and consequently more unsus-
pected, especially by their parents ; for parents are always
slow to discover the faults of their own children. Every
teacher of experience has had cases where a parent has
assured him that his child always spoke the truth. — " I
never knew him," he says, " to tell me a falsehood in his
life." And yet the teacher has had repeated evidence of
DUTIES OF PARENTS. 95
his duplicity. In such a case we have known the evidence
to be presented to the parent — and then, after looking con-
founded for a minute, he gravely insists, that it must be
the very first instance of the kind which ever occurred.
As we have before remarked, all parents are prone to be
bhnd to the faults of their children, and this fact, which no
sensible father or mother can deny, should lead all, — not
to be distrustful and suspicious of their children, — not to
chill, by their jealousy and want of confidence, that frank-
ness and ingenuousness which may be so easily cultivated
in childhood, — but simply to be aware of the dangers to
which their children are exposed, and never take any im-
portant step, or let slip hasty and criminating words, or
even come to an unfavorable decision against a teacher,
without gaining access to surer sources of information than
the exparte testimony of pupils can be.
VI. When the teacher has done wrong, do not con-
demn him too severely. The best of teachers must do
wrong sometimes, and parents should soften the displeasure
they may otherwise feel, by reflecting upon the peculiar
trials and difficulties of his employment. Be very careful,
too, that whatever measures you may take shall not be of
such a character as to injure his authority in the school.
Never express your opinions against him in the presence of
your children, or give them the impression that in their
contests with him, should they be inclined to enter into
any, you will take their side. If he has made a mistake,
consider what measures you can take to remedy it, but do
not talk about it among your neighbors, and with your
children, simply to get the victory in pubhc opinion. It
will only make the matter the worse, both for the school,
the neighborhood, and especially for your own child. Con-
sider, we say, what measures you can take, and take them
kindly, deliberately, and with a friendly feeling. You must
keep the peace between yourselves and him, for all the bit-
terest of the fruits of the contention, if contention arise,
96 MR ABBOTTS LECTURE.
come upon the head of your child. The pupil stands de-
fenceless between you, and if you come to a rupture, his
moral sensibilities, and every better feeling of the heart are
crushed by the collision.
VII. Set your children such an example, too, as you wish
them to imitate. Whatever your spirit is, they will imbibe
it, and you will see your habits imitated, and carried out
to extremes in their conduct. Parents see this in very
young children, and are often made acquainted with some
of their own personal peculiarities, by seeing them reflected
in the actions of a little child. This tendency to follow
where you lead, becomes stronger and more uncontrollable
the older your children grow. If you are passionate, un-
steady in your government, impatient and irritable, they will
be so too, and thus you communicate to your offspring, a
moral contamination which is far worse than any hereditary
physical disease.
Such are some of the more prominent duties, which
parents have to discharge in reference to the schools where
their children are instructed. Far more, however, of the
child's character, and progress at school, depends upon the
general system of management under which he is brought
up at home. Children well trained at the fireside make no
trouble for their teacher ; but when irregularity, insubor-
dination, and passion reign at home, they will bring forth
their rank fruits in the school-room, unless the most ener-
getic authority keeps them down, and if parental neglect
makes such authority necessary, they who cause it must not
complain of its exercise.
In looking into human life, and seeing how entirely
dependent, for character and happiness, the child is upon
the parent, we cannot but consider it one of the greatest
of the innumerable mysteries of divine Providence, that
one human being should be placed so completely in the
hands of another. The wonder is increased, by thinking
how much skill, how much knowledge, how much firmness,
DUTIES OF PARENTS. 97
what decision at one time, and what delicacy of moral
touch, if I may so express it, at another, are necessary, in
order to succeed in training up the infant mjnd as it ought
to be trained. It would sometimes almost seem that God
has given to parents a work to do, of such intrinsic diffi-
culties, as very far exceed the capacities and the powers of
those whom he has commissioned to execute it. There
seems, at first view to be a want of correspondence
between what, in a wisely balanced plan, we might sup-
pose ought to be nicely adapted to each other, — the
moral capabilities of the parent, and the moral necessities
of the child. We say at first view, for on more mature
reflection, we discover simple principles which common
sense and honest faithfulness will always suggest, and which,
steadily pursued, must secure favorable results. Among
the lower classes of society, we find many, very many fam-
ilies of children well brought up, and among the higher
classes, and those too where virtue and Christian principle
seem to reign, and where religious instruction is profusely
given, we find total failure. The children are sources of
^rouble and wretchedness to their parents, from the time
^^hen they gain the first victory over their mother, by
• screaming and struggling in the cradle, to the months of
wretchedness in later life, during which th ey arebrought
home, night after night, from scenes of dissipation and vice,
to break a mother's heart, or to blanch the cheek of a
father with suppressed and silent suflTering.
What are the causes of these sad failures ?
Why are cases so frequent in which the children of vir-
tuous men grow up vicious and abandoned ? There are
many nice and delicate adjustments necessary, to secure
the highest and best results in the education of a child,
but the principles necessary for tolerable success, must be
few and simple. There are two, which we wish we had a
voice loud enough to thunder in the ears of every parent
in the country ; — these are two, the breach of one or the
12
98 MR ABBOTT'S LECTURE.
other of which, will explain almost every case of gross
failure on the part of virtuous parents, which we have ever ^
known. Tiiey are these :
1. Keep your children from bad company, and
2. Make them obey you.
There is no time to enlarge on these points, but it seems
to us, that habits of insubordination at home, and the com-
pany of bad boys abroad, are the two great sources of evil
which undo so much of what moral and religious instruction
would otherwise effect. The current of parental interest
is setting towards mere instruction to such an extent, as to
overrate altogether its power; and the immense injury
which comes in from such sources as bad company and
insubordination, is overlooked and forgotten. What folly,
to think that a boy can play with the profane, impure, pas-
sionate boys which herd in the streets, six days in the week,
and have the stains all wiped away by being compelled to
learn his Sunday-school lesson on the seventh, or that
children who make the kitchen or the nursery scenes of
riot and noise, from the age of three to eight years, will be
prepared for anything in after life, but to carry the spirit ^^
insubordination and riot wherever they may go. No^^
children should be taught most certainly, — but they must
also be taken care of. They must be governed at home,
and be kept from contaminating influences from abroad, or
they are ruined. If parents ask how shall we make our
children obey, we answer, in the easiest and pleasantest
way you can, but at all events make them obey. If you
ask how shall we keep our boys from bad company, — we
answer too, in the easiest and pleasantest way you possibly
can, but at all events, keep them out of the streets.
The alternative, it seems to us, is as clear and decided as
any which circumstances ever made up for man ; you must
govern your children and keep them away from the contam-
ination of vice, or you must expect to spend your old age,
in mourning over the ruins of your family.
4
LECTURE IV.
MATERNAL INSTRUCTION
MANAGEMENT OF INFANT SCHOOLS
Bt m. m. carll.
MATERNAL INSTRUCTION.
Anything true or really useful on the subject of Ma-
ternal Instruction, and the proper treatment of children,
must be based on a knowledge of human nature. The
maxim " know thyself," is founded in wisdom, since with-
out it, all other knowledge is vain. Man has ever been
prone to look at the world without rather than the world
within, and to study the objects with which he is surround-
ed, rather than himself, the focus to which all these objects
refer. His science and philosophy are drawn from the ex-
ternal objects which strike his senses ; he penetrates the
earth, interrogates the hidden rock, analyses the waters,
the air, the light; he numbers the trees of the forest, calls
them all by name ; he divides, arranges and classifies the
animal kingdom, acquaints himself with their habits, tames
their ferocity, and by the superior force of his reason sub-
dues them to himself; he scales the heavens, counts the
stars, takes the dimensions of the planets, calculates their
revolutions and measures their distances.
In short, by thus habitually viewing things external, and
forgetting to look within he is drawn out of himself , and the
internal powers of his mind become identified with mere
102 MR CARLL'S LECTURE.
matter. Hence they assume an importance which does
not belong to them and which was never intended ; the
external is exalted above the internal, the visible above the
invisible, the natural above the spiritual and the inductions
of the senses and of natural science above the dictates of
reason and intelligence enlightened from above.
We shall see the vast importance of self-knowledge, when
we consider, that all other information derives its true value
from the circumstance of its producing this result. Since
the great end and object of the acquisition of knowledge or
education, is to develope the human faculties, to form the
mind, to enable us to understand our true relation to God
and man, to fit us for the various duties in this world, and
to prepare us for the enjoyment of the world to come.
A knowledge of the moral and physical nature of man,
will lead to a just apprehension of nature and introduce us
by the most direct path to the temple of wisdom. As no
one can be said to be master of any art who does not under-
stand '\ts principles, so no one can comprehend the relation
of things in the moral or visible world, without a knowledge
of man, who comprehends in himselfall the principles of both
worlds. What is the creation but an outbirth, a visible
manifestation of the principles and powers appertaining to
humanity? What but a mirror in which he may see re-
flected the qualities of his mind ? In every animal he may
recognise an outward form and express image of some ap-
petite, some passion, some quality residing in himself. The
innocence of the lamb, the power of the lion, the cruelty
of the tiger, the cunning of the fox and the subtilly of the
serpent are all his. Nay, the properties of things inani-
mate all have reference to him ; nature is decked in beauti-
ful colors, to delight his eye, sweet odors to regale his sense
of smell, grateful flavors to gratify his taste,and sweet sounds
to soothe his ear. He is possessed of powers capable of tak-
MATERNAL INSTRUCTION. 103
in^ cognizance of every created thing and capacities for their
enjoyment; he is endowed with principles of which the
world of nature is at once the expression, the image and
the exact counterpart. " The earth and the fulness there-
of," is intended not only to afford sustenance to his body,
but as a sort of metaphor designed to explain and illustrate
the moral and intellectual qualities of his mind.
Not only do all things in the world of nature exhibit the
hidden principles in man, but all things in the word of God.
Man is the subject of divine revelation. As the visible
world is a mirror held up to the outward senses of man and
reflecting back upon himself his own image, so the word of
God, is an intellectual mirror reflecting his moral nature,
and containing the laws of the invisible world. Here the
voluntary and intellectual powers find their proper objects,
the secret motives and springs of human action are touched,
hence are the seeds of faith which bring forth the charities
of life, and hence is formed a moral sense, a conscience,
which will guide and direct us through the labyrinth of the
world. How important then is self-knowledge! and yet
how neglected ! We study everything but ourselves ! and
yet here alone shall we f nd the golden key, which will un-
lock the volume of nature, and disclose to us their inestima-
ble treasures.
How indispensable to parents, to those who have the
training and education of youth, is this knowledge ! But
to none more necessary than to Mothers. And yet how ^^w
who are acquainted even with the physical structure, much
less of the mental organization and moral wants and neces-
sities of the little innocent, helpless being to whom they
have given birth ! How desirable, that in addition to the
natural instinctive affections of the mother should be super-
added the lights of reason and intelligence, to supply the
influences most favorable for bodily and mental develope-
nient.
104 MR CARLLS LECTURE.
As the object of education is io form the mind, and to
fit the man for future usefulness, it is extremely important
that those upon whom this care devolves, should be ac-
quainted virith the nature of the little being upon whom they
are about to exercise their skill. The constituent princi-
ples of his mind — the powerful influence of early impres-
sions— the improvable nature of his faculties — the best
means of developement — the effect of example, habit, and
circumstances in forming the character, and his duties aris-
ing out of his various relations — these are all subjects of
deep interest, and necessary to be understood by those to
whom the culture of the mind is intrusted.
First, let us turn our attention to the constituent princi-
ples of the mind, and deduce our system from acknow-
ledged facts and actual observation.
Here then is an infant ; let us contemplate it under the
point of view proposed. What are its possessions ? Has it
thought, understanding, reason, intelligence ? No ; It has a
body, of wonderful structure, the form and lineaments of a
human being, it has senses adapted in every particular to
its new condition, it has a brain of surprising organization,
it has animal instincts and appetites, sufficient to make
known its wants, and to excite in the breast of the mother
those affections arising out of the peculiar relation between
them, and which prompts her to provide for the wants and
necessities arising out of its state of utter helplessness and
dependence. The infant then is furnished with nothing
but the rudiments of mere faculties, both of body and mind,
entirely impotent, but at the same time suited in all respects
to its helpless state. These faculties however, are capable
of being developed by exercise, and fitted for another con-
dition of his being, in which strength of nerve and vigor of
intellect are required ; and this successive growth and
adaptation is only preparatory to a still higher unfolding
of his marvellous powers, his moral and spiritual faculties,
MATERNAL INSTRUCTION. 105
intended to fit and qualify him for a nobler and more per-
fect con ition in another and better world. For as the body
is an image of the world, so the mind is an image of heav-
en, and is capable even whilst here of acknowledging the
influence of the eternal and immutable principles of love
and wisdom, which constitute the felicity of angelic beings.
In general the constituents of the mind are will and
understanding I to the former belong, appetites, passions, af-
fections, desires, and motives to action ; to the latter apper-
tain, thought, ideas, reason, intelligence ; the moral and
intellectual nature of man. Hence the mind, by which we
mean both will and understanding, is natural and spiritual,
since man is capable of being instructed in natural or spir-
itual science; instruction in the former opens and forms the
natural mind, instruction in the latter opens and forms the
spiritual mind. It is requisite to be aware of the true re-
lation subsisting between the two faculties of will and un-
derstanding, that we may see which is the primary principle.
It will be found upon strict examination, that the under-
standing takes its tone from the will, acts an important
though subordinate part, guides and directs those secret
springs and movements, whose beginnings and activities
originate in the heart or will. The will is the wind and
tide which urge onward, the understanding the rudder
which directs and controls the movement. Every man has
some predominant passion which prompts to action and
imparts the power of thought and reflection; for without
affection or desire there can be no thought ; where there is
no activity, no directing power is needed. It is this ruhng
passion that is distinctive of character ; it is this which
forms real differences among men ; for such as the ruling
love is, such is the man as to his real internal quality. The
man whose predominant passion is sensual pleasure in any
of its degrading forms, receives the impress of sensuality
upon his character, and it is apparent to all the world that
14
106 MR CARLL'S LECTURE.
his understanding has been beguiled and seduced to be-
come the pander of a debased and corrupted will. His
will has been beguiled by the serpent, and his under-
standing has consented. The same is true of any other
ruling passion, whether the love of pleasure, the love of
accumulating wealth, the love of fame on the one hand, or
the love of country, or any of the Christian virtues on the
other ; that which predominates will fix its impress upon
the character for the time being, and impart its real quality
however it may be disguised by external appearances. The
will and understanding bear the relation to each other of
end and means, the former originating in the will, whilst
the latter furnishes the ways and means of accomplishment.
" Keep thy heart with all diligence, for out of it are the
issues of life."
If our reasoning be correct, we have arrived at an im-
portant conclusion, viz., that the will or moral part of our
nature is that which rules the man, constitutes his real
quality and forms the secret spring of all his affections,
thoughts, words and actions. To form a new heart or a
new will is the end to be attained and should be the
object of all instruction and education.
We have now a distinct and definite object, which should
be kept steadily in view, from the commencement and
through the whole course of future discipline. It is this prin-
ciple that first manifests itself in early infancy, the first mo-
tion, instinct, or appetite, originates here. If then the infant
is nothing but a bundle, so to speak, of mere faculties, in-
tended for future use and to fulfil certain definite purposes,
which use and which purposes depend upon the proper
developement of those faculties, the great point of inquiry
is how shall the developement of these faculties be effected
in the best manner. What are the best means of bringing
about the desired result ? How is the unfolding of these
powers of body and mind to be effected, and where are we
MATERNAL INSTRUCTION. 107
to begin ? Shall we commence our operations with the
heart or the head, the moral or intellectual part of our
nature ? If the man is to be reformed, how is his reforma-
tion to be effected ? Are human means adequate to the
task ? Example, habit, instruction, precept, education,
will work wonders ! It is proverbial that " habit is a se-
cond nature," and will do everything we can desire, pro-
vided they are habits of a proper kind, growing out of
a comprehensive education embracing the whole man.
'* Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is
old he will not depart from it," is a maxim founded in a deep
knowledge of human nature, admits the power of early
training and discipline, and recognises the lasting influence
of education in forming the mind, and fixing the future
conduct.
But at the same time, we must not be unmindful, that
human means, and human instruction, together with their
effects upon the mind, are not things in themselves inde-
pendent of a higher power, their province being to adapt
and prepare the mind for the operation and influence of an
agency that is superhuman. The design of religion and of
education appears to be, not to destroy any of the original
faculties, but to preserve them from perversion, to build up,
to regulate and to direct them to their proper and legiti-
mate objects. Indeed the hereditary nature, the constitu-
tional temperament, never can be radically changed ; it can
only admit of modification, bent and direction by education.
Like plants of different species which may be bent and
made to grow in any direction, whilst their nature remains
the same.
It is admitted that early association, first impressions,
example, habit, in short, the circumstances in which the
infant is placed and the influences to which it is subjected,
have a most powerful effect on the growth of the mind
and c*"*'acter of the man ; but it must be remembered that
108 MR CARLL'S LECTURE.
these are fostering, counteracting, modifying influences ;
that they do not originate anything, their province being
to operate upon and give a suitable direction to those
nascent powers and faculties, whose constitutional tempera-
ment, and inherent hereditary tendencies, they may bend,
but can never radically change. Were this doctrine true,
to wit, that man is wholly the creature of circumstances,
then it should follow, as a necessary consequence, that
those who have been brought up under the most favorable
influences, would manifest this change of nature which the
doctrine implies ; but when did education ever change the
constitutional temperament of a man ? When did it ever
change the sanguine into the phlegmatic, or the mercurial
into the dull and plodding? Take the offspring of French
parents and train him from infancy among the English,
what would be the result ? From the principle of associa-
tion and imitation he would acquire their language, their
manners, their customs, but he would retain the vivacity
of his nation ; he would be in his temperament a French-
man still. His language, his manners, his habits would be
English, but the form and figure of his body, his complex-
ion, his countenance, and his spirit would all be French.
It is an universal principle that like begets its like ; that not
only form, features, complexion, are inherited, but even
diseases, and tendencies to particular vices, sympathies
and antipathies are inherited also ! This is undeniable,
being confirmed by fact and experience.
Seeing then that the will principle is the prime mover
in man, and that here the secret springs and motives of all
our activities are centered, the next inquiry is, how is this
principle to be reached ? Is it within the power of ma-
ternal agency, or have early, first impressions any effect
upon it ?
A counteracting influence must be resorted to, at a very
early stage, before the tender plant takes a wrong di-
MATERNAL INSTRUCTION. 109
rection, and becomes rigid and unyielding by habit. To
apply this counteracting influence with discretion and effect
the mother should not be ignorant of the fact of man's
depravity in general, and of the particular hereditary ten-
dencies of her offspring. She should be thoroughly aware
of the consequences of indulging those evil propensities
which manifest themselves at a very early period ; propensi-
ties growing out of the selfish nature which all inherit,
and which constitutes the root of that deadly tree whose
fruit fills the world with death and wo.
In her hands is the bud of human existence ; its future
expansion, beauty and sweetness will depend, in a very
great degree, upon maternal culture. She must watch
over the tender plant, the dews of parental affection must
distil upon it in gentle and timely effusion, no worm or
noxious insect must be permitted to invade this precious
bud or eat its way into its crimson folds, to blacken and
destroy this human blossom.
This will require watchfulness, care, and even at times
considerable self-denial, heroism and energy of character ;
for she must grapple with and strangle the serpent, which
she may soon discover, not in the cradle, but in the bosom
of her child.
Were I called upon to form a system of education adapted
to the present state of society, calculated to exert a coun-
teracting influence against the prevailing vices and disor-
ders, one adequate to our necessities, I would commence
with the fair part of the creation ; who being first in the
transgression, should be made the first also in applying the
remedy. The commencement of her education, and every
step of her progression, in the formation of her mind,
ought to have a direct and steady bearing upon this point.
All the relations which she is to occupy, the relations of
daughter, o{ friend, of wife and mother, and all the duties
which she will be called upon to fulfil, arising out of these
110 MR CARLLS LECTURE.
relations, ought undoubtedly to be kept steadily in view,
but especially the last. In this she will be called upon to
bring into exercise all her knowledge and experience,
to exert an influence upon her husband, and children,
which none but a wife and a mother can exert, and to act
a most important part in forming the character and habits
of the succeeding generation. The course of female
study, and the end and object primarily regarded by parents
and instructers, in relation to it, form a sort of test of the
character of the age, and the degree of civilization to
which we have attained 1 If we are desirous of knowing
the state of refinement in any nation or community, we
need only turn to their history with a view of ascertain-
ing the position occupied by the female in the social
relation, and we shall meet with the desired information.
In some conditions of society, we shall find them regarded
as a sort of inferior order of beings, treated as menials,
their comforts disregarded, their improvement wholly neg-
lected. In some countries, we find them subserving the
purposes of avarice, and cupidity, ministering to the basest
of human passions, objects of traffic and merchandise. In
a state of society a little more advanced, when the com-
forts and conveniences of life began to receive attention,
we find them trained to household duties ; and skill in the
needle, the spindle and the loom, constituted their course
of instruction.
But ease and comfort led to luxury and refinement ; the
female was again called upon, another advance was to be
made, and her circle of instruction was to be extended in
order to meet the demand ; various female accomplishments
were to be added to the homely arts and household virtues
of the staid and sober housewife, who flourished half a
century ago !
" A new world rises, and new manners reign."
This most respectable, most worthy, and most excellent
xMATERNAL INSTRUCTION. ] ] 1
character, the height of whose ambition it was, to keep
things snug and comfortable at home, and take care of her
children, is fast receding from us, and another race has arisen
in her place. Other fashions, other books, other studies,
other manners now prevail. Thus we learn from the
documents of history, that the state of the female has
always indicated the state of society in general ; and
whether we regard the age of barbarism or the age of chiv-
alry, the age of plain common sense, or of refinement and
fastidious luxury, her condition and the course of her in-
struction have been intimately connected with it. She has
always shared the toils, but not always the comforts of
man ; she has ever ministered to his necessities, shared his
dangers, and promoted his comforts ; in one age his slave,
in another his idol, and in another his sensible companion
and tender partner. In the march of mind, and the grad-
ual elevation of society, she has risen with it, not as an
effect, but she has contributed in no small degree as a cause
in bringing about this result. How different would this
result have been, had the true relation of woman been
better understood, her influence upon society been bette^
estimated, and had the object of her education been those
higher maternal relations and duties, whose legitimate
province it is, to form and mould the infant mind, and to
sow the seeds which are to be brought to maturity in the
future man ! This has never, as far as history informs us,
been the primary object of female education, nor is it the
main object now ; when it shall become so, it will effect a
great change in the course of len)ale study.
Let us turn our attention for a moment to that which
appears to be the prominent feature, as the etid of study
in female schools, in order to ascertain whether it is founded
upon a knowledge of the radical difference subsisting
between the male and female character, and to the dif-
ferent province and routine of duties which each is called
112 MR CARLL'S LECTURE.
upon to fulfil. The object at present seems to be, not so
much to prepare our daughters for the relation of a mother
as that of a wife ; not so much to instruct and manage the
children as to get and manage a husband ; not so much to
instruct them in a knowledge of human nature, and thus
prepare them for the important duties they will be called
upon to fulfil by becoming sensible, intelligent and discreet
mothers, as to form an advantageous connexion, and a
fashionable establishment ; by which they may be exempted
from household cares, and transfer the sacred duties of a
mother to the hands of servants and hirelings ! Hence in
accordance with this object, the education of our daughters
is showy rather than solid, calculated to attract attention,
rather than to form a fixed and permanent esteem and
affection, that will stand the shock of adversity. Destitute
of moral energy, and ignorant of the useful and profitable
arts of life, when by the vicissitudes of fortune, their cir-
cumstances are reversed, they are not prepared to con-
tribute anything to the support either of themselves or their
children. But it is obvious, that a female, in order to be
suitably prepared to meet the exigencies of life, should
have her circle of instruction very much enlarged, so as to
bring all her powers, both of body and mind into exercise,
and to become acquainted with those useful arts suited to
her nature, which are quite as various, and probably much
more various than those of the other sex. In short, the
whole woman should be educated, her heart, her head,
her hands ; and all with a strict and peculiar reference to
the great and paramount duty of superintending, with
intelligence, wisdom and discretion, the unspeakably impor-
tant and interesting period of infancy !
The course of study, the tastes, fashions and habits,
prevailing among females, as they always have been an
unerring index of the general state of society, so are
they now ; for in these tastes, fashions and habits, we may
MATERNAL INSTRUCTION. 113
discern those objects and qualities, that are most highly
appreciated by the other sex. If men are educated in
ignorance of those peculiar characteristic qualities, which
constitute the true loveliness of the female character, if
he regard her person rather than her mind, his standard of
excellence will be very low, and the consequence will be,
that the female will accommodate herself to this state of
feeling, and the objects of her ambition will not rise above
this level. The next advance that is to be made in the
social condition, will be to raise this standard of estimation
immeasurably above its present grade, that the high rela-
tions of wife and mother she is ordained to fulfil, and the
pure and heavenly qualities of heart and mind of which
she is capable, may be better understood. Surely no man
can justly claim or deserve the character of a gentleman or
Christian, who does not regard those higher qualities of the
female character with the most profound respect, and even
with a feeling approaching to reverence. Not as possessing
those qualities of herself independently, but as regarding
them as the most lovely reflection of the Divine image and
likeness to be found in this lower world ! This feeling
should be instilled into the mind from the cradle ! The
one sex should be taught to understand the true object to
be attained, and that which alone constitutes true loveliness,
and the other to regard those qualities with respect, rever-
ence and love !
The following beautiful extract is from an anonymous
author :
" This train of thought minds me of a sentiment uttered
recently by a Peer in the English House of Lords, who evi-
dently viewed this subject in its true light. In an incidental
declaration he observed, ' that he felt for the other sex the
most 'profound reverence.' Many noble sentiments have
been expressed in the national assemblies both abroad and
in our own country, but none exceeds this in true dignity ;
14
114 MR CARLLS LECTURE.
and if there were reason to believe that it is universally
felt by the members of that house in which it was expressed,
it might go far to reconcile us to, or even make us fall in
love with hereditary honors, as being calculated to preserve
in view a high standard of thought and action.
" There is not any principle of greater importance, or
more directly conducive to human improvement and happi-
ness, than this ; — That the male sex should cherish for the
female a sentiment of ^profound reverence ; ' not, indeed,
altogether upon the chivalrous principle, which made out-
ward attractions in some considerable degree the subject of
that sentiment ; but upon the more interior grounds that the
other sex is endowed with a capability of receiving from
heaven the purest influence possible to exist, and which is
destined to be transmitted through the medium of woman
to man, to refine and exalt his character by attracting him
to her, and so inducing a state of most pure and generous
affection. Were it possible for man to be without this soft-
ening and refining influence, he would be ruder than a
beast. Now could the male sex be prevailed upon under
the guiding influence of enlightened and pure religious
principle, to hold sacred the purity of woman as the
first recipient of this heavenly influence, and to receive it
from her without perverting it by unchastity of imagination
or action, then human happiness would no longer be a mat-
ter of uncertainty, or the dignity of human nature be a
debateable existence.
" It is this distinguishing characteristic of woman, suppos-
ing it to be developed by virtuous sentiments and conduct,
which quahfies her for the duties and endearments of the
marriage union, and for the supremely important office of
preparing the foundation, in infancy and childhood, of all
that is pure, and wise, and noble in mature age.
" This being the distinguishing characteristic of the sex,
a man ought to approach every woman with reverence,
MATERNAL INSTRUCTION. 115
because she possesses it, or because she is a woman ; — but
when he finds it either uncultivated or perverted, he should
and he will, if his mind be rightly constituted, with inward
pain and repugnance, avert and withdraw himself. This
peculiar female endowment is neglected and uncultivated
when woman is selfish, and more concerned about the
charms of her person than the purity of the principles of
her mind ; it is perverted when she is unchaste.
" It appears that the sentiment is not too strong when,
viewing the sex generally, it is remembered, that the real
object of it, is nothing less than the Divine image as im-
pressed, in potency and capability, on the female soul, and
set forth in the beauty of her form and person, as the
proper personification of the peculiar virtue and loveliness
of which the female character is susceptible. Or, suppos-
ing this divine image as peculiar to the female to be formed
and brought out in some completeness by a union of good
sense and virtue, it will surely deserve to be regarded, for
its purity and loveliness, with that depth and tenderness of
feeling which the term reverence implies. In truth, I
believe that no sentiment weaker than that of reverence is
adequate to maintain in young men, uniformly and con-
stantly, a compliance with the object of the Lord's search-
ing declaration, ' Whosoever looketh on a woman, to lust
after her hath committed adultery with her already in his
heart ;' and thus to preserve in them a true and chaste
view, and thence that pure and reverential love of the
other sex, which is the incipient state of conjugal love.
" Now he who feels it his duty and privilege thus to con-
template the other sex, will necessarily look for and expect,
some qualities of the spirit or mind to be developed and
matured which are worthy of his reverence. In his view
the dress, the carriage, the shape, or the complexion, will
appear as little or nothing, when put in comparison with
those prevailing virtuous sentiments which indicate a care-
116 MR CARLLS LECTURE.
fully formed character, on the basis of religion and con-
science. Being both prepared to yield reverence, and
being in expectation of meeting with qualities worthy of
it, it may be reasonably calculated, that females will be
acted upon by the knowledge of such expectations ; and
will prepare themselves accordingly for the ordeal which
they know they are destined to pass. This will happen,
because the female is dependent upon the male for the
gratification of her distinguishing desire, — the desire to he
loved; — and she will, therefore, inquire Xhe conditions on
which this love may be obtained, — the qualities which the
male most esteems.
" A close observer will often see cause to lament, that
young females appear, like the Israelites of old, to ' halt
between two opinions ;' they seem uncertain whether a
religious or a worldly candidate for their favor will pre-
sent himself, and undetermined to which character they
will commit their happiness ; and so they are half worldly
in their views and manners, ma^mg personal requisites ap-
pear too prominent in their esteem, in order to meet and
suit the views of any admirer of a worldly character who
may address them ; and at the same time half religious
both from conscience, and because they would not wish an
absolute, dissolute infidel. How much better would it be
* to trust in the Lord and do good /' How much more
likely would such a decided character be to attract, under
Divine Providence, a character equally decided ! How
much better it would be to guard against a half and half
suitor ; an amphibious animal, who may perchance grow
weary of the comforts of the land, and plunge his partner
into the dark gulf of married misery ! Surely, every one
may see that true religion and virtue can scarcely exist at
all in half and half characters, — if it really be true, that a
man must forsake all in order to be a follower of the Lord ;
and that a man ' cannot serve God and mammon,' for if
MATERNAL INSTRUCTION. 1 1 7
he will hold to the latter he must despise the former ! But
too many who acknowledge these truths in theory appear
to deny them in inactice.
" But if we would have females to prepare themselves for
a union with a decidedly good and religious young man
only, not anticipating the possibility of union with a meaner
character, however well supplied with worldly requisites,
we must remember, that reformation must begin with the
male sex, for it is that sex which, by its demands and ex-
pectations, as well as by its prevailing sentiments and ex-
ample, gives to the female its tone and character; and per-
haps the reason is, that in the male constitution, intellect
or truth predominates, and in the female, affection or good,
and it is the office of the understanding by its truth to
define, point to, and to fix the standard of what is truly
good. But although reformation should begin with the
male sex, there is no reason why the female should not co-
operate, or secretly act upon the former by her influence
and behaviour, to bring about or further such reformation ;
therefore, every female who is made acquainted with the
true and blessed relation of the sexes, will be impelled by
her own pious and pure feelings, uniformly to demand
from the other sex, whatever her condition and connexions
in life, a becoming behaviour ; and will endeavor to inspire
and inculcate, as far as she may, and with that prudence
with which she is peculiarly endowed, the true principles
upon which man should act towards woman."
" A most comprehensive rule, which embraces the whole
of this subject, and which from its purifying, elevating, en-
nobling effects upon the character, deserves to be written in
letters of gold, is ' a love of the spirit and thence of the
body ; ' this is a chaste love of the sex ; an unchaste love
is, * a love of the body and thence of the spirit.' Were
the female world regarded according to this rule, what a
blessed change would be wrought in our systems of educa-
tion, and in the whole structure of human society '
118 MR CARLLS LECTURE.
" Virtue and wisdom are of no sex, for they pertain to the
inward spirit : he who is capable of giving to them his
primary regard, in contemplating a female, has his thought
elevated to her spirit, and consequently it is raised above
sensual ideas regarding the sex. But before a man can re-
spect the spirit ^rs;", and thence the body, he must learn, by
acquiring mental qualities himself, to perceive the beauty of
the mind as well as that of the person ; in other words,
true religion must at least, have inspired him with a deter-
mination to be outwardly, and a desire to become inwardly
chaste, before he can think, in the Jirst place of the spirit
of woman as formed of her own peculiar and lovely modifi-
cations of affection, virtue, and wisdom, or prudence, and
thence think, of necessity, chastely of her person. Should
the idea of a personal union, separate from a mental or
spiritual union, with any female, be suggested to the
thoughts of an individual who is the subject of such a
chaste determination and desire, he would, while thus think-
ing reverentially of the lovely spirit, shrink from it with
repugnance, or even with horror.
" Under the pure and impartial influence of this principle,
a man will reverence a woman, as a woman, in every variety
of her condition. He will feel interiorly the same senti-
ment in addressing a decent peasant woman, and an accom-
plished gentlewoman : it is far from him to take advantage
of any accidental difference of circumstances, to utter
words, or indulge in a behaviour, offensive to the chaste
principle as existing, — for he always assumes, if possible
its existence, — even in the mind of a female in the lowest
ranks of life. And because he respects a woman, as a
woman, his favor or kindness will not be shown to a female
according to the degree of her personal agreeableness or
beauty, but according to the respectability of her deport-
ment. Not that he will be insensible to the charms of
beauty, but he will regard that beauty as having been given
' MATERNAL mSTRUCTlON. 119
to woman by the Creator to render her an object of love
and respectful desire to man.
"Are these rules deemed too strict for human infirmity
in the present very defective period of society ? Perhaps
they are so ; nevertheless they are heavenly rules, and the
observance of them will not fail to insure blessings of the
highest order."*
Thus we clearly perceive that the state of the female is
intimately connected with that of human society, and the
effect of her influence is such, that no real advance either
in our physical, moral or religious condition can be made
without it. How necessary then, that she should receive
a suitable education ! She who is at once the mother, the
guardian, the exemplar, the instructress of our race !
What a subject for the philanthropist !
It is a subject which challenges the most profound at-
tention of the moralist and statesman, intimately connected
as it is with the best and dearest interests of man ; it claims
the attention of the wise and good of every nation under
the sun. The next advance in meliorating our condition
will be to give to this subject the consideration it so justly
demands. That individual who should devise a system or
course of instruction and education, for females^ adapted
to their destination, peculiar genius and character, adapted
to the relations, in which they are appointed by Providence,
and especially the maternal relation, would prove a real
benefactor to his species. And I would most respectfully
suggest, that this Institute take the subject into their most
serious consideration, and either by appointing a committee,
or by offering a premium, in some degree commensurate
with the dignity and interest of the subject invite public
attention to it, and elicit the efforts of those whose talents
and experience qualify them for the undertaking. When
* See " Intellectual Repository" — London.
120 MR CARLLS LECTURE.
I sat down to commit a few reflections to paper on this
subject of " Maternal Instruction and Management of
Infant Schools," the first thought presenting itself was,
how exceedingly limited and confined in their influence,
would be any suggestions upon the subject, seeing that the
great mass of the female community are quite unprepared
to profit by them. The great majority, at least in many
sections of our country, are uninstructed ; and even those
who have enjoyed the advantages of an education, know
little more than to provide for the more physical wants of
their offspring, whilst their early dispositions, appetites,
passions and habits, are not subjected to any plan of oper-
ation, but left entirely to the disposal of chance, or the
effect of surrounding influences and example. The course
of study of those who have enjoyed the advantages of cul-
ture, does not embrace any knowledge of the constitution
of children, the most common diseases to which they and
their offspring are liable, much less of their mental and
moral constitution. The literature of the day, and the
books they read, are not calculated to shed much light on
these subjects, but rather to beget an artificial taste and feel-
ing which indisposes them to attend to the dull concerns of
real life, and to nourish those feelings of pride, ambition,
vanity and self-indulgence, which have a tendency to pro-
duce and encourage the sentiment that household duties
and the direction of children, are vulgar concerns.
Let a plan of female education be formed without delay,
and a liberal reward be proposed for the best practical
essay, an essay that shall in all respects meet the difficul-
ties and necessities of the case. Liberal premiums are fre-
quently offered for other objects, professorships are founded
for teaching some particular branch of human science,
whilst this that lies at the very root and embraces them all
has most unaccountably been overlooked and suffered to
pass almost unnoticed !
MATERNAL INSTRUCTION. 121
Let us now proceed to take a plain, practical common
sense view of this subject, with the ardent hope of effecting
some improvement in this department, so intimately inter-
woven with the best interests of society, and also of ascer-
taining whether a discreet maternal discipline, cannot and
ought not to be transferred to our infant schools. We
have endeavored to shew, that differences exist among
children, with regard to natural disposition, temperament,
genius, taste, and propensities to particular virtues or vices.
The young of other animals are born into all the science
necessary for the circle of use, which they are destined to
fulfil, because their powers are limited to mere instincts,
capable of improvement only to a certain degree ; but the
infant is born in a state of total ignorance, a naked, tender,
crying, helpless thing, claiming from the moment of birth,
the offices of kindness and charity, as if to remind him
that this first lesson is never to be forgotten through life.
Who would suppose, that this little mass of ignorance and
impotence, contained within it the rudiments of faculties
capable of boundless developement, and of a power capa-
ble of subduing the fiercest animals, triumphing over the
elements, adapting them to his purposes, and putting all
things under his feet ! Created in the image and likeness
of God, that he may possess in a finite degree, the infinite
attributes and perfections of his Maker !
This is the being whose destinies are committed by the
great Father of all to the hands of the mother, whose bosom
alone God has endowed with answering afTections and ac-
cordant instincts, which cannot elsewhere be found, and
which must be exercised either for weal or wo, according as
they are directed and applied by an enlightened wisdom
and discretion.
What now has the mother to do ? what should be her
principal aim? The corrupt and depraved will of her
child is to be counteracted, checked, subdued, or at least
15
122 MR CARLL'S LECTURE.
rendered quiescent and obedient to a better influence. A
new will, a new principle of action is gradually to be im-
planted in the mind. How is this to be accomplished ?
The great business of instruction and education must com-
mence immediately ! But all in proper order ; all things
adapted to its state. As the nourishment which its body
requires is simple and in all respects suited to its tender
and delicate organs, so its whole treatment must be regu-
lated by the principle of adaptation and the beautiful fit-
ness of things. The first course of discipline must have
respect to its physical wants ; — next we must regard our
charge as a being already beginning to receive impressions
from without, ready to take its first bent, and most deli-
cately susceptible of the influence of habit. The light of
reason has not yet dawned upon the infant mind, and
prior to this interesting event a most important course of
treatment and discipline is to be adopted. The infant is
now to be subjected to the management of the great in-
structress, experience ; first the experience of others, after-
wards to be realized and confirmed by its own.
It is the subject of two powerful influences, the one from
within, the other from without; the first, a heavenly,
celestial influence ; the last, the influence of the external
world pressing upon every sense, whilst the voice, the coun-
tenance, the vety touch of the mother enters into the influ-
ences with which this little sensitive creature is surrounded !
The plain or ground within the infant which receives these
operations, is that of innocence !
The infant is now surrounded by influences both physi-
cal and moral, either of a congenial or unpropitious kind ;
and every passing hour leaves its impress, and begins to
delineate the first faint and imperceptible outlines of char-
acters and traits, which are destined in after life to stand
out in distinct and bold relief. As the callow young of
the feathered tribe, after exclusion from its brittle tenement,
MATERNAL INSTRUCTION. 123
by the genial influences of light, air, warmth and food,
begins to be covered with a soft and delicate down, at first
almost imperceptible, which gradually assumes the form and
consistency of feathers and wings, to protect it from atmos-
pheric changes, and enable it to fly ; so the tender babe
begins immediately to experience a growth and expansion
of its powers, both of body and mind, demanding a care
and assiduity, commensurate with the dignity of its nature.
The watchfulness of the mother should be directed, at
first, in surrounding her infant charge with the best influ-
ences in her power, carefully avoiding any treatment hav-
ing the slightest tendency to form bad habits, or to foster
any of the latent seeds of evil, as yet dormant in the heart
of her child. The influences, which its physical condition
calls for, are provided by the God of nature, and are to be
applied with discretion, such as, a due degree of light, pure
and wholesome air, food from nature's fountain, perfect
cleanliness, and a manner of clothing, calculated to invig-
orate rather than enervate the growing frame.
With regard to moral or mental qualities, the infant is as
yet in a mere negative, passive state, having neither judg-
ment, reason nor any restraining power ; it does not act,
but is only acted upon, by everything coming in contact ; in
short, it may be said to be nothing but desire and appetite,
and an inclination to refresh its feeble senses in frequent
and long continued sleep, interrupted at times by the
operation of internal influences, which break out and clothe
its sweet, and innocent face with smiles or in quickened
respiration !
The mother is called upon therefore, to follow, rather
than lead the course of nature, not to interfere with na-
ture's plan by too much action, but rather to abstain from
action ; not to force or strive to give an artificial direction,
but rather direct and gently lead things into " the way they
should go ! " How admirably does this accord with the
124 MR CARLL'S LECTURE.
weakness and imperfection of human nature ! Who can-
not here see the wisdom and goodness of Providence, who,
himself furnishes all things necessary for our well being,
leaving nothing but their proper application, to man ! He
who furnishes the elements necessary for our bodily growth,
the heat, the light, the air, the refreshing showers, the food
and the clothing, furnishes also the elements necessary for
the developement of mind, and has instituted such a rela-
tion between the infant and the parent, that needs only to
have its dictates followed, to insure the desired result !
This seems to be the plan of Divine Providence through-
out, leaving as little as possible to the positive action
and energies of man, which would require a foresight and
a wisdom far beyond his powers. Hence we find, that the
moral code follows out the same plan, and man is required
to abstain, in order that he may not interfere with the
divine operation, and by shunning what is evil, be pre-
pared for a reception of that love which must come from
God, and must be reflected back again in humble and
grateful acknowledgement to its source !
It will be seen then from the foregoing observations, that
the mother need not be intimidated by the apparent difficulty
of her task, that she has no occasion to adopt an artificial,
complicated system in the management of her infant charge,
but to follow the dictates of a genuine affection, which she
will assuredly find in her own breast, if it has not been
smothered and perverted by selfishness and folly. Let her
follow nature, by adopting a few simple rules, and adhering
to them uniformly and steadily, and she will assuredly, in
performing the duties of a mother, soon begin to reap the
rich harvest of reward, in the inexpressible delight, flowing
from the sweet affection and obedience of her child. She
will have the pleasure of witnessing from day to day, the
little human blossom opening with new beauties and ex-
haling accumulating sweets !
MATERNAL INSTRUCTION. 125
The few simple rules, which I would suggest are, a gen-
uine enlarged affection, sufficiently decisive to apply all
necessary restraints, example, uniform government and
obedience.
By a genuine enlarged affection, I mean an affection
combined with tenderness and energy of character, which
contemplates the future in the present, aware of the latent
evils in the bosom of the child, watchful of their first ap-
pearance, and ready to apply the kind and degree of cor-
rection which the case requires.
It would seem to be decidedly the best and safest plan,
to act upon the preventive rather than the curative principle,
to strike at the root rather than take things in detail, by
lopping off the branches. The root of those evils, which
manifest themselves, either in childhood or maturity, is
selfishness or self-love. Now this principle is to be sul>-
dued, and its opposite, viz. that new commandment, " that
ye love one another," is to be formed in its stead. How is
this to be effected ? Is it by extirpating the old root, and
substituting the new, or is it to be effected by engrafting the
new on the old ? The latter appears to be the process
pointed out by nature. The gardener may extirpate the
tree that is barren or produces sour fruit, and plant another
in the same spot, (or he may engraft a good tree upon the
old root ;) not so however with man ; if you destroy the
root you destroy the man. We therefore infer that educa-
tion is not intended to destroy any principle in man, but
rather to restrain and regulate by superinducing or forming
in the mind a new principle.
All that is necessary then for the mother, is to introduce
order and regularity into her government and apply, but
apply effectually, those restraints and correctives to those
outbreakings of temper and frowardness which will soon
begin to make their appearance.
A regular plan of action, uniform government and good
126 MR CARLL'S LECTURE.
example, always exhibiting as much love, mildness and
cheerfulness, as is consistent with that decision which will
command respect, is all that infancy requires ; and if per-
severed in, will go very far indeed towards accomplishing our
wishes and rendering recourse to harsher means unneces-
sary. By regularity of action I mean what may be called
a proper nursery system, having reference to regularity as to
sleeping, washing, dressing, taking food, carrying in the
arms, which things though apparently small matters, yet
inasmuch as they are effectual in laying the foundation of
the first habits, which will constitute the plane of future
habits, are in this view of vast importance, and exert a most
decided influence both upon the child and the parent. On
the child by training it up from the beginning in " the way it
should go," and on the mother, by beginning early to habit-
uate herself to system and regularity, which will become
more and more necessary, as the infant advances into the
state of childhood. In this early spring, this seed time of
life, this season of sacred, tender affection and endear-
ment, are to be stored up in the inmost nature of the little
innocent, the first rudiments of those latent, filial affections,
which are to form the ground of a celestial, heavenly influ-
ence, to temper, to restrain and sustain us in the conflicts
incident to human existence. It is of great importance, to
excite in the infant bosom those states of aflfection, towards
parents, nurses and playmates so congenial to this tender age
as frequently as possible, as they are among the best and hap-
piest influences with which it can be surrounded, and among
the most lasting of its early impressions. Before it is capa-
ble of actual transgression, and of course perfectly guilt-
less, it is open to a purer and holier influence, and like the
bee is laying up a store of honey in the inmost recesses of the
hive, which will sustain it during the long and dreary winter
of Ufe. Let the mother assist with all her power by taking
advantage of every favorable occasion, in storing up this
MATERNAL INSTRUCTION. 127
blessed honey, this hidden manna, which will form an inter-
nal store, adequate under the Divine blessing to feed and
nourish it, through the wilderness of life, until it reach the
borders of the heavenly Canaan, where other food better
suited to its states and necessities will be provided.
It is evident that during this state or period of helpless
infancy, previous to the dawn of reason, before the infant
can distinguish between right and wrong, the restraints of
parental authority on the one hand, or obedience on the
other cannot be applied. Tenderness and affection, stu-
diously avoiding the formation of bad habits, and as much
system and uniformity of management as will tend to the
formation of good habits, is all that this period of existence
requires. In this state we have seen, that there is the most
perfect fitness and harmony between the innocence, feeble-
ness and appetites of the infant, and the maternal affections ;
we shall be able to detect this beautiful harmony in every
advancing stage of its progress towards maturity : we shall
see it in the presence of another principle now about to be
called into activity, viz. the all important principle of obe-
dience. Let us notice for a moment the beautiful adapta-
tion of this principle to the growing necessities of the child.
The little being now emerges from the state of infancy,
and begins to approach the confines of that interesting pe-
riod called childhood. Its little limbs have acquired some
strength, its motions and actions begin to give a more defi-
nite form to its desires and appetites, the first rudiments of
thought manifest themselves in the lispings of half formed
words, and the pearly teeth begin to shoot forth, indicating
a growth which calls for more solid food. All these changes
are so many indications to remind the mother, that another
principle is speedily to be added to her little code of laws,
which is to exert a most powerful influence on every suc-
ceeding stage of her child's existence ; which is to be chiefly
instrumental in forming its disposition and character, and
128 MR CARLLS LECTURE.
without which it will be left destitute of any steady rule of
action, a prey to headstrong passion, appetite and selfish
caprice.
This great, this most important principle is obedience,
suited in all respects to the ignorance and inexperience of
the child, affording the most salutary of all restraints. It
is intended by infinite wisdom that the child should experi-
ence all the benefit of that knowledge, experience and wis-
dom possessed by the parents, in whom all the apparent
harshness and unpleasantness of authority and command,
can be tempered and sweetened by parental affection. This
design of Providence will be frustrated by a neglect to ex-
ercise a proper authority on the onfe hand, and by a spirit
of disobedience on the other. Another consideration show-
ing the great necessity of obedience, is that arising out of
the relation subsisting between the child and its earthly and
heavenly parent. The child stands in a relation to its
earthly parent corresponding to that in which the Jatter
stands to his heavenly Father ; obedience therefore, to the
one will be the surest means of securing obedience to the
other. There are three codes, or different degrees of law
to which the child will be required to yield obedience ; the
domestic or parental, the civil or social, and the moral or
divine law. Obedience to the first prepares for those which
follow ; obedience to the parental law, prepares for obe-
dience to the civil, and obedience to this prepares for obe-
dience to the divine law. There is no principle so suited
to the condition of childhood and youth, so efficient in
forming human character and so comprehensive in its
influence as obedience. It meets the requirements of his
present and future relations, in the family circle, in the
school, in the college, in society, in the church it is equally
and ahke indispensable. In his progress from childhood
to youth, and the course of discipline to which he must be
subjected, he will of necessity be exposed to a great variety
MATERNAL INSTRUCTION. 129
of influences, some salutary, but by far the greater part of
an opposite nature ; the influence of the nursery, of the
family circle, of playmates and companions and above all
of the school. Nothing but an habitual and sacred regard
for truth, obedience to the law of right, and a desire to
obey this law for its own sake and because it is right, can
furnish a proper motive of action, a motive superior to the
mere hope of reward or the fear of punishment, and which
will enable him to meet effectually those powerful influ-
ences. An early, habitual obedience, will render unneces-
sary those coercive restraints which have to be resorted to
with ill-educated children, and which not unfrequently,
destroy or deaden the nobler feelings, sour the temper,
induce contumacy of disposition, and disrespect towards
superiors, a recklessness of behaviour that sets all authority
at defiance, and implants worse principles than those we
strive to correct. The curative process, or the work of
correction generally falls to the lot of the teacher, who is
but too frequently ignorant of the proper means of cure,
and injudicious in their application, and the restraints, the
stripes, the tears and the groans witnessed in the school
room, are but penalties paid for maternal neglect. Let the
mother then attend to this sacred duty in the proper time
and place, if she would avoid risking the future happiness of
her child, and save it from this disgraceful and painful
process. Let her use the rod to check and subdue the
stubborn, froward will of her child, but let it be applied
early, judiciously and effectually ; its frequent repeti-
tion will not be required, either by herself or others, and
she will confer upon her child an incalculable blessing,
" Correct thy son and he shall give thee rest : yea, he shall
give delight unto thy soul." Prov. xxix. 17. "He that
spareth the rod, hateth his son ; but he that loveth him
chastiseth him betimes.^' Prov. xiii. 24.
These are some of the first lessons, and the first steps
16
130 MR CARLLS LECTURE.
in life ; let that mother who would save herself and her
child many a pang, lay these things to heart.
An habitual and voluntary obedience, during the season
of childhood and youth, will be found to be the only kind
of restraint, which the case requires, and which is in all
respects, adapted to the relation subsisting between the
knowledge and experience of the parent, and the igno-
rance and inexperience of the child. From a willing obe-
dience to parental authority to obedience to divine law
from submission to an earthly to that of a heavenly
parent, the transition is easy and natural. It will give rise
to another restraining principle of greater dignity, purer
and holier in its influence, in all respects as well adapted
to the government of the man, as the former was to the
government of the child ; I mean the principle of con-
science. Obedience is suited to the child, conscience to the
man ; the former, to a condition when the appetites and
passions are strong, and the powers of judgment and
reason are weak, the latter to another condition in which
man is required to govern those appetites and passions as
of himself; the former is applicable to a state of pupilage,
the latter to a state of manhood ; the former to a state of
parental authority, the latter to a condition, in which this
authority is to cease, and conscience is to take place of
parental law.
That faculty to which we give the name of conscience,
like the other faculties of the mind, is connate, but its
quality, degree and restraining power, are the result of
education. It is the index of the will and understand-
ing, and points out the moral state and condition of the
man. Enthroned high above the other faculties, she
scrutinizes the desires of the will and thoughts of the
understanding, and if enlightened by religion, she faithfully
distinguishes between the right and the wrong, and pro-
nounces a just and righteous judgment. She does not act
MATERNAL INSTRUCTION. 131
however, in an arbitrary manner, but claims her power to
enforce obedience from the slate of the lower faculties,
and their previous acquired habits of submitting to paren-
tal control. Science, reason, habit, should be the servants
and handmaids of religious conscience, and the province of
education is to prepare them for her government.
It is evident that conscience derives its quality from edu-
cation, and is either spurious or genuine according to the
religious principle in which any one is brought up. The
man who receives no religious instruction, but is instructed
merely with reference to this world, will have no religious
conscience at all, and the only restraining power in his
mind will be that resulting from the hope of reward or the
fear of punishment ; the laws of society instead of the divine
laws. Were not this so, conscience would be a universal
principle, acting with undeviating uniformity, in every
region of the earth. But we find the Hindoo, the inhabit-
ant of China, the Mahometan and the Christian, possessing
a conscience at utter variance with each other, and influ-
enced by religious customs entirely different ! According to
the religion of Brama, it is allowable to expose the aged to
perish with hunger on the banks of the Ganges, or for a widow
to offer herself as a sacrifice on the burning pile with the body
of her husband ! The conscience of the Chinese will
permit them to drown their infant children, if weakly and
deformed or when the means of subsistence are difficult to be
obtained ! The religious conscience of the Mahometan
allows of polygamy ; whilst the conscience of the Christian
regards all these practices as dreadful enormities and shrinks
from them with horror ! Thus it clearly appears that all pos-
sess the faculty of conscience, but that it derives its quality
from education, and is spurious or genuine, according to the
religious principles by which it is developed and formed.
This view of the subject seems to confirm the idea o^
Locke, who defines conscience to be " the opinion which a
132 MR CARLLS LECTURE.
man forms of his own actions." This opinion will of
course be correct or otherwise, according to the state of
the will and understanding ; according as these have been
enlightened and purified by genuine truth, consequently,
according to the kind and degree of education which the
individual has enjoyed and its final result in forming the
mind.
With regard to the " management of Infant Schools,"
it would require a volume to enter into all the interesting
details ; at present a brief sketch must sufllice. If the
maternal instruction has been judicious, and the habits of
order, truth and obedience have been formed in the nursery,
it will not only render the management of Infant Schools
comparatively easy and delightful, but it will point out the
plan to be pursued. We shall transfer the maternal plan to
the Infant School, and follow out the system commenced
at home. The circumstances will be different, but the
principles of government and moral discipline will be the
same. The sa liC attention to order and regularity, the
same habitual obedience, the same adherence to good ex-
ample, the same watchfulness in the formation of habits,
the same sacred regard to truth will be required.
The circumstances in which the child is now placed are
new, and in many respects very different from those to which
it has heretofore been accustomed. It is brought into new
associations ; other examples, other objects present them-
selves to its notice, all of which cannot fail to produce a
change in the feelings, thoughts and habits of the child.
But that probably which produces the most striking and
immediate effect, is the divided authority to which it is sub-
jected, and the new claims which are made upon its obedi-
ence. Heretofore, accustomed to render obedience to
parental authority only, he sees in the person of his
instructer another, who claims the same authority, and to
whose government he is called upon to submit. The
MATERNAL INSTRUCTION. 133
parent must be willing to relinquish this authority into the
hands of the instructer, and to impress as far as possible
upon the mind of the child, that respect and obedience are
to be rendered in the school ; this will be easy if the pre-
vious habit has been formed if not, a matter of extreme
difficulty. The time of the child is now to be divided
between the parent and the instructer ; the latter is to take
the place of the former during the hours of instruction ; it
is plain then, that there should be the best possible under-
standing between them ; the teacher should be acquainted
with the peculiar disposition of the child, and a unity of ob-
ject and mode of instruction should be adopted, otherwise
they will counteract each other, and the mind and disposi-
tion of the child will suffer. The mother should pay fre-
quent visits to the school, and encourage in every possible
way both the teacher and the pupil.
A neglect of those things, and other causes, have had the
effect to retard these useful establishments, and to disap-
point the reasonable expectations of many. Among the
other causes, may be enumerated incompetency in the
instructers, a want of information with regard to the consti-
tuents of the mind, and the best means of developement,
an indifference to the force of example and the power of
habit, a want of distinguishing between the moral and
intellectual faculties, and a mistaken view of the object to
be attained. Hence the proper culture of the moral prin-
ciple and the formation of good habits have received less
attention than the more showy but less useful practice of
oppressing the infant memory with scientific facts, unsuited
to the dawning state of intellect ; facts which belong to a
very advanced stage, and which should be the result of
reasoning and reflection. This subjecting the infant mind
to a sort of hot bed influence ] will produce a premature
growth, and the effect will be similar to that of ripening
fruit by artificial means ; the fruit may present a fair outside,
134 MR CARLLS LECTURE.
but the fine quality and flavor which the operation of
nature can alone produce, will be lost. We operate upon
one faculty, at the expense of the rest, and imagine if the
memory and intellect are cultivated the object is attained ;
whereas, all the intellectual faculties ought to expand under
the genial influence of the moral power upon which they
are dependent. As the plant does not put forth one bud
or leaf or flower in succession, but a simultaneous growth
is effected by the secret operation of the actual energies,
so all the faculties of body and mind ought to undergo
a simultaneous expansion by the operative energies of love
and kindly feeling, originating in the heart, the great foun-
tain and spring of all activity. But all things in their pro-
per order ; " first the blade, then the ear and then the full
corn in the ear." The principle of adaptation should be
kept steadily in view ; we should no more think of instruct-
ing the child in matters of science far beyond its capacity,
than of feeding the suckling with solid food.
The object of instruction is, to develope and form in the
best possible manner, the moral and intellectual faculty.
For this purpose, the harmonies existing in nature, should
be well understood both by parent and teacher. We have
already adverted to the beautiful harmony existing between
the helplessness of the infant and maternal affection,
between parental authority and filial obedience, between
the claims of civil society and religious conscience. We
must discover and follow out the same fitness in every suc-
cessive stage of advancement. As in nature there is an
adaptation of one thing to another, as there is a manifest
relation between the air and our lungs, between sound and
the organ of hearing, savor and the sense of taste, odors
and the sense of smell, light and the eye, so the affections
of the heart or will principle and the understanding, have
their appropriate objects, between which the same harmony
may be discovered. As natural light is fitted for the eye.
MATERNAL INSTRUCTION. 135
SO is truth for the understanding. The exercise of our facul-
ties, by their appropriate objects, affords satisfaction ; and
as knowledge is the proper food of the understanding, its
acquisition should therefore be a source of delight. Why
is it then, that the business of instruction, is in most cases
regarded as an irksome task both by the teacher and the
pupil ? Is it not, because these harmonies are not under-
stood, that improper food both as to kind and degree, is
presented and that the principle of adaptation is neglected
in the moral and intellectual culture of children ? Instead
of an orderly and regular expansion of the whole mind, we
see it retarded in its growth, by blighting influences, or one
faculty cultivated at the expense of the others. How often
is the intellect stored with science whilst the moral habits
of the pupils are utterly neglected !
In an Infant School, the moral habits of the child,
should be of primary concern, and the acquisition of know-
ledge secondary. The moral culture of young children is
not eflfected merely by precept, but by order, example and
habit. Let them be taught habitually to conquer self and
to love one another. The golden rule, announced by
Infinite wisdom, " To do unto others as we would that
they should do unto us," is the principle of action, which
harmonizes with moral developement, and one which is suit-
ed to all the circumstances arising out of our social rela-
tions. This great principle ought to be constantly and
steadily adhered to ; no violation of the rule should be suffer-
ed to pass by unnoticed ; in short, it ought to form the very
atmosphere of the school and be inhaled at every breath. It
is in this way, the moral sense is formed, and by connecting
this feeling with our Heavenly Father as the source of all
good, it becomes a religious conscience.
With regard to intellectual culture, let the instructer take
advantage of the principle of curiosity or the desire to know,
so natural to childhood, by leading and directing it in a
136 MR CARLLS LECTURE.
judicious manner; let a succession of suitable objects be
introduced from time to time, as the case may require,
with a view of forming the habit of attention and observa-
tion. As the object with the teacher should be, \o form the
mind of the child, and not so much the imparting of any
particular branch of knowledge, the means made use of
ought to be such, as best to answer the purpose. The ob-
jects therefore, and the subjects of instruction must fall
within the sphere of the infantile mind, leaving those of a
higher character to a more advanced stage of the pupil's
progress. Let the principle of adaptation be the polar
star, never to be lost sight of for a single moment.
Together with an habitual moral discipline, the sensitive
faculty is first to be called into exercise, and the first book
to be studied is the Alphabet of Nature. Here the curiosi-
ty will find ample scope, the habit of attention and observ-
ation will be formed ; a fund of materials will be treasured
up in the mind, which by exercising the reflective faculty,
will gradually promote the growth of the memory, imagina-
tion, understanding, judgment and reason.
The study of the alphabet of nature, will be succeeded
by the study of artificial signs, the study of things with
their more obvious qualities and uses, by the study of words
and names, and the previous habit of attention and obser-
tion will soon enable the child to become master of these,
and thus a solid foundation will be laid for future progress in
science.
Thus by a proper attention to order, commencing with
the dawn of human existence and chasing away the clouds
that hover over the morning of life, a son will be lighted
up in the little moral world, whose genial and vivifying rays,
will bring forward a mental growth of surprising beauty,
and cause the intellectual wilderness to bud and blossom
as the rose !
LECTURE V.
TEACHING THE ELEMENTS
MATHEMATICS.
By THOMAS SHERWIN.
17
ON TEACHING MATHEMATICS.
Gentlemen,
The subject upon which I am to address you at
this time, is, teaching the elements of mathematics ; it is
one of great importance and I am conscious of my inabihty
to do it justice. I shall not however indulge in theoretical
speculations upon any particular scheme, warranted to be
universally the best, but rather give you the results of my
own experience. My endeavor will be to make my re-
marks of as practical a nature as possible, especially, as
there seems to exist, at the present day, too great a ten-
dency to theorize on the subject of education.
It has been supposed by many, that to excel in mathe-
matics, requires peculiar original powers ; hence, that a
considerable portion of mankind are unquaUfied by nature
to comprehend any but the simplest truths of the science.
Some even maintain, that, unless the organ of number be
largely developed, there is no great hope of excellence.
There are, no doubt, differences in the original constitution
of different minds ; but the power of reasoning is an es-
sential attribute of man, and if there be any department of
human science attainable by all, it must be mathematics,
since there is no other kind of reasoning, in which the data
are so well defined, the steps of the process so short and
140 MR SHERWIN'S LECTURE.
intimately connected, and the results so perfectly satis-
factory.
But much has been attributed to the dulness of scholars,
which is, in fact, owing to the ignorance or indolence of
authors and teachers. Many present will, from their own
experience, justify me in the assertion, that, till within a
few years, the science of mathematics, with the exception
perhaps of geometry, was taught rather as a mechanical
process, than as an exercise of the reasoning powers. A
set of rules, apparently as arbitrary as the commands of an
eastern despot, was imposed upon the learner, and by
these alone he was to be guided in his mathematical studies.
No wonder then, that arithmetic was considered a difficult
and uninteresting study, and algebra a kind of magic ; and
that boys of good abilities generally preferred any exercise
of the mind to the mere manual labor of making figures.
Although great improvement has been made in the manner
of teaching mathematics, still, in many parts of our coun-
try, the good old way, as it is called, is preferred and
pursued.
Of the utility of this department of learning you need
not be reminded ; but there is a great diversity of opinion
in regard to the extent to which it should be pursued ; and
opinions vary much according to the end to be attained and
the supposed effect of mathematics upon the mind and
habits of the student. If the purpose be merely to qualify
him to calculate interest and compute his gains and losses
with accuracy, it is easily attained, although it is my opin-
ion, that a good scientific education, based upon mathe-
matics, is much more important to the mere merchant than
has generally been supposed. But I will not do injustice
to my audience by supposing them other than strenuous ad-
vocates of a thorough and comprehensive scientific educa-
tion. Mere mechanical processes, executed by rule and
without any exercise of the understanding, are totally in-
compatible with the demands of the present age.
ON TEACHING MATHEMATICS. 141
With these views, I proceed to designate the objects to
be aimed at in elementary mathematical education, and the
means, by which, according to my experience, these objects
may be most effectually secured.
The purpose of the study of mathematics is two fold ;
first, as an exercise of the mind to develope the reasoning
powers, and, secondly, the acquisition of knowledge. No
study is more effectual in habituating the mind to close, ac-
curate and continued reasoning, none more completely
engages the attention, none more perfectly secures us from
the delusions of the imagination and the domineering in-
fluence of the passions, than that of the exact sciences.
To produce these effects, however, nothing must be treated
superficially. The quantity studied is of no importance
in comparison to the manner in which it is learned. In
this respect many teachers and parents have erred. The
inquiry has too often been, how much has the pupil
studied, and not how well.
The knowledge acquired by the study of pure mathe-
matics, may be either directly applicable to the arts of life,
or a ground work upon which to erect a superstructure em-
bracing the wonders of the physical world. Many facts in
natural philosophy may be acquired by experiment and
observation ; but still, through the aid of mathematics only,
can a thorough acquaintance with the science be attained.
In teaching the elements, therefore, both of these latter
purposes, as well as the discipline of the mind should be
kept in view, and the course of instruction be modified
accordingly.
My purpose is to speak of the following branches, viz.
Arithmetic, Algebra and Geometry, and make a few remarks
on some of their applications.
1. Arithmetic has of late been divided into two parts,
mental and written, differing only in this, that in the former
the various operations are performed and their results
142 MR SHERWIN'S LECTURE.
retained in the mind ; while in the latter, written characters
are used to record the results of the successive steps. The
mind goes through the same processes in both, except that
in the one the memory is less burdened than in the other.
The first ideas of number are undoubtedly intuitive ; the
distinction between one and many results directly from the
evidence of the senses, although the separate terms of
numbering must have been the work of reflection and
artificial arrangement. The first principles of arithmetic
^ should therefore be taught through the aid of the senses.
For this purpose almost any sensible objects may be used.
Nature, in giving us ten fingers, has supplied us with a very
convenient calculating machine, and one which seems to
have been used by all nations of the earth. Cubical blocks
serve a very good purpose, on account of the facility with
which they may be arranged in various combinations.
With these the child should be taught addition, subtraction,
multiplication and division ; the different orders of units
with their relative values ; and the nature of fractions,
together with the various operations to which they are sub-
ject. After this, simple straight marks may be employed
in operations upon whole numbers, and squares variously
divided for those upon fractions. In all these exercises,
however, the problems should be such as are easily per-
I formed and not fatiguing to the child ; they should also
lend to unfold some general principle. The learner should
moreover be left to perform them in his own way, by an
actual arrangement of the sensible objects, or by a selec-
tion made by himself among the plates prepared for the
purpose. If at any time difficulties occur too perplexing,
questions may be asked which will soon remove them.
In the preceding remarks, I have supposed the learner to
commence at a very early age ; for, although I object to the
practice, which I fear is too common, of forcing the infant
mind to premature and unnatural exertion, to the detriment
ON TEACHING MATHEMATICS. 143
of the physical and even mental health and developement,
yet I believe that the ideas of number and form, are among
those first received into the infant mind. With proper
precautions, the earlier and more perfectly those powers of
mind used in the investigation of mathematical truths, are
developed and cultivated, the greater vv'ill be the benefits of
the study. For those who commence subsequently to the
age of infancy, there is less necessity for the use of visible
objects. The ordinary amusements of childhood will have
given them a tolerable knowledge of the first principles of
numbering.
But, even children learn to abstract at an earlier age
than many suppose ; it is advantageous, therefore, to dis-
pense with sensible aids as soon as the learner can com-
prehend arithmetical operations upon abstract numbers.
But the change should be made gradually ; and for this
purpose, after a question has been given relative to sensible
objects, the same may be repeated in an abstract form.
Thus, by degrees, the process becomes purely intellectual.
In this manner the learner should be exercised in all the
fundamental operations, beginning with the most simple
processes, and advancing, according to his increased ability,
to more difficult combinations, and those consisting of
larger numbers. Thus two important objects are secured,
viz. a familiar acquaintance with the principles of calcula-
tion, and an ability to perform a connected train of de-
ductions.
After the pupil has been thoroughly disciplined in mental
arithmetic, he may be made acquainted with the use of
written characters ; and here great care is requisite to pre-
vent the process from becoming a matter of mere routine ;
the learner must not be allowed to perform any operation
which he does not thoroughly understand, and for which he
cannot give a reason. The system of enumeration, the dif-
ferent orders of units, the nature of fractions, and the four
144 MR SHERWIN'S LECTURE.
fundamental operations both upon whole and fractional num-
bers, may be advantageously illustrated, as occasion may re-
quire, by referring the numerical characters to the sensible
objects previously used.
In regard to the four principal operations, little needs be
said to those who understand them, as their own experi-
ence, and the circumstances of their learners, will suggest
the best method of teaching. In subtracting, however, I
believe that many persons pursue a course for which they
can give no better reason, than that it will produce a cor-
rect result. I allude to the practice of borrowing ten and
adding one to the next left hand figure in the less number
to pay the debt. It appears to me much more rational to
resolve one of the units of the figure, from which the loan
is obtained, into ten of the next inferior order, and after
the subtraction is made, previously to subtracting the next
figure, to diminish by one that from which the unit was
taken. However, no evil would result from the practice,
provided this principle were previously demonstrated ; viz.
that, if two quantities are each equally increased, the differ-
, ence of the sums will be the same as that of the given
quantities. After the learner is fully convinced of this fact,
he will know that if he adds ten units of any order to one
of the numbers, one unit of the next higher order, added
to the other will make a just compensation.
As to rules in arithmetic, he who is properly taught will
^ have little or no need of them, for every step is an exercise
{ of reasoning or the application of a principle with which
^ he is already familiar. Still, as a rule embodies the prin-
ciples requisite for a particular class of operations,Tt is
well that a few should be introduced into a course of arith-
metical instruction. These should however be deduced
from the questions, and not the questions performed by the
rules, that is, upon their authority. It is important also
when practicable, that the student form rules for himself.
ON TEACHING MATHEMATICS. 145
as that is, to a considerable degree, a test of the accuracy
with which he has studied and thought. Afterwards he
may be required to learn the same rules, expressed in more
appropriate words than those which he could himself sup-
ply. Great caution, however, should be exercised, when
text books contain rules, lest the learner repose unhesitat-
ing confidence in their authority, without investigation and
induction.
Many arithmetics contain a varity of " rules," as they
are called, such as Reduction, Rule of Three, Practice, &c.
But these are altogether superfluous, since they are nothing
more than particular applications of a few general princi-
ples, with which a well instructed pupil is fully acquainted,
and in the proper use of which he will be guided by his
judgment. Indeed I consider them as detrimental, since
even if understood, they have a tendency to substitute an
exercise of the memory for one or several of the reasoning
faculties, and the operation becomes perfectly mechanical.
The Rule of Three, for instance, directs the scholar to
multiply two terms together and divide by a third ; and in
former times he knew no reason for it, except the authority
of the rule. And besides, suppose he did know why he
should proceed in this manner, the parade of stating the
question merely, would require more time, than would be
necessary to solve it analytically. As an example, if 2
bushels of corn cost 10s. what would 7 cost ? According
to the Rule of Three, the order of the terms must first
be ascertained, which is not always obvious, then, as
21. : 11. : : lOs. to the answer, multiply the 2d and 3d terms
together and divide by the first, and we have 35s. ; where-
as a boy who understood himself, would say 1/. will cost 5s.
and 7/. 35s. So in compound proportion, the following
question: If 12 men build 18 rods of wall in 4 days, how
many rods will 16 men build in 8 days ? which would be
rather difficult, as well as tedious, according to the old
18
146 MR SHERWINS LECTURE.
method, is easily solved as follows : If twelve men build
18 rods in a certain time, one man, will, in the same time,
18
build T^ ; this time is 4 days, and in one day, he will build a
18
- . , -rz — i ; 16 men will build 16 times as
fourth as much, or 12 x 4
much as one man, or ~r^ — —; and in 8 days, 8 times this
' J2x4 ' ''
last quantity, or — j^ — j- which fraction reduced becomes
3x8x2=48 rods.
I would remark that powers and roots find their ap-
propriate place in algebra, since but an imperfect explana-
tion can be given of them without the aid of that science.
To those, however, who are not expected to study algebra,
some explanation of the process of extracting roots should
be given, since there is frequent occasion for it in the
mechanic arts. But what is called " Position," ought to be
banished from all arithmetics, ns it is algebra in disguise and
is never understood by the mere arithmetician.
In all departments of mathematics, the constant aim
should be to teach one thing thoroughly, before attempting
others dependent upon it, and to arrange the different parts
of the course, so that each may be a preparatory step to
the succeeding. Moreover, a scholar should never be told
, directly how to solve a problem, but should be led to the
' solution by a series of questions from the teacher, which
will place him in the right train of reasoning ; and if it be
found that his embarrassment arises from ignorance of any
preceding principle, that principle should be again investi-
gated before any attempt at its application. Indeed the
instructer must make himself master of the mental pro-
cesses of his pupils, before endeavoring to remove any
obstacles that impede the progress. Questioning the
learner makes him exercise his mind, leads him to a know-
ledge of his own powers, and informs the instructer of the
ON TEACHING MATHEMATICS. 147
nature and source of the difficulty ; whereas if he is told
directly how to perform the question, indolence will gener-
ally exclude all exercise of the reasoning faculties.
In conducting the recitations, the answers to the ques-
tions and a repetition of the general method of performing
them, should not be deemed sufficient ; but as many exam-
ples should be wrought out and explained as time and
circumstances will permit. It is well also to vary the
questions from those in the lesson, giving others of the
same nature, but diffisring in some particulars. The atten-
tion of every individual ought to be secured and each
required to perform all the steps of the process ; for this
purpose I have found it beneficial to permit one scholar to
perform part of a question, then call upon another at a
distance, ask him if the process thus far is correct, and re-
quire him to continue the operation.
If the student is to advance from arithmetic to algebra
and geometry, the course should be in some degree modi-
fied so as to prepare him for these departments. The
practice of representing operations, resolving numbers into
their factors, and finding all their divisors will be found
beneficial. He should be particularly exercised and well
grounded in fractions, accustomed to the analysis of ques-
tions, be made to see clearly the course of reasoning, and
comprehend the different steps in their proper order. But
above all he ought to know the nature of a demonstration,
and be so trained as not to rest satisfied with anything
short of demonstrative evidence, in any case that is suscep-
tible of such proof.
II. ALGEBRA.
After the scholar is well grounded in arithmetic, but not
till then, he is prepared to enter on a course of algebra, or
universal arithmetic, as it is sometimes called. This differs
from common arithmetic principally, in the use of general
148 MR SHERWIN'S LECTURE.
characters instead of figures of a definite value, and in the
I operations' being represented, instead of being actually per-
^ formed. Pure algebra never furnishes numerical results,
but letters are used indefinitely, and afterwards any num-
bers may be substituted in their place ; a problem thus
generally performed, establishes principles applicable to all
, others of the same kind. Hence this science becomes
strictly demonstrative.
In making algebra rather than geometry succeed arith-
metic, I difier from some eminent writers and successful
teachers. But I think myself justified in this arrangement
by the great improvement that has taken place, within a
few years, in the mode of teaching arithmetic and algebra.
Indeed the latter science is to one properly instructed, as
easy as the former. Many of the operations are performed
even with greater facility than the corresponding ones of
arithmetic. In its most important features, it is only a gen-
i eralization of the principles with which the arithmetician
lis already acquainted. Nevertheless, if one or the other
must be omitted, a knowledge of geometry is preferable to
that of algebra, on account of its great practical utihty
in the arts, and the convincing nature of its proofs. No
study, perhaps is so eflfectual as geometry, in giving a clear
conception of what is meant by demonstration, and con-
sequently, in exercising the reasoning powers and giving to
the mind a strictly logical character.
Pure algebra, as I have already remarked, gives general
results ; but generalization cannot advantageously be in-
troduced at first, in its full extent ; the nature of algebrai-
cal operations should be taught in an inductive manner.
Some works on this science commence with quantities, all
of which are indefinite ; and with learners of considerable
maturity, this may, in some instances, succeed very well.
But in general, this course is so abstract as to produce con-
fusion and indistinctness. A young gentleman, of fine
talents, with a mind somewhat matured, at Harvard Uni-
ON TEACHING MATHEMATICS. 149
versity, asked me by what means he could make himself
well acquainted with algebra. I directed him to study
Colburn's work on that subject. At the expiration of six
months, he assured me, that he had obtained much more
knowledge of the science from that treatise, than from the
less inductive ones of Euler and Lacroix, which he had
previously studied. Until I perused this book, said he, I
knew nothing about the subject. He afterwards studied
with success, the more abstract works of the college course
and left the university with the highest college honors.
My personal experience and that of my acquaintance are
in perfect conformity with the above statement.
The transition from arithmetic to algebra, should be by
questions which may be solved without the aid of the lat-
ter. Let a series of problems be given, tending to estab-
lish some one principle, and let them be sufficient in num-
ber to make that principle perfectly familiar to the learner.
The student should be exercised in problems developing
one principle after another, until he can easily and under-
standingly solve equations of the first degree, involving sev-
eral unknown quantities. Particular care is requisite to see
that he understands the nature of equations, and the opera-
tions that maybe performed upon the two members without
disturbing their equality* A boy is apt to suppose, that,
when he multiplies an equation by the denominator of a
fraction, he multiplies all the terms except the fraction ; he
should therefore be required to explain how he multiplies
each term successively, until there can exist no misappre-
hension. The process and object of transposition and the
reason why all the signs may be changed, need to be care-
fully inculcated ; the fact that transposing a term is adding
it to, or subtracting from both members, ought to be made
perfectly familiar. I am in the habit of asking my pupils,
what may be done to equals without destroying their
equality. In most cases they will answer correctly, show-
ing that the proper self-evident truths exist in the mind,
150 MR SHERWIN'S LECTURE.
but that they need to be drawn out. If the learner be
rather dull, the question may be proposed to him in the
following form ; If you add the same quantity to equals,
how will the sums be ? If you subtract the same from
equals, what will you say of the remainders ? If you mul-
tiply equals by the same, what do you know of the pro-
ducts ? and if equals be divided by the same, what will be the
relative value of the quotients ? also, if you add; subtract,
&.C. the first members of two or more equations, and per-
form the same operations upon the second members, how
do you know that the results will be equal ? Similar
queries may be proposed relative to inequalities. By fre-
quently answering these and an&Iogous questions, the
learner will be prevented from performing his processes
mechanically, and he will always be ready to give a reason
for what he does.
But after a little practice in algebra, the greatest diffi-
culty consists in putting questions into equations ; in this,
therefore, learners need to be particularly exercised, and
too much care cannot be taken to see that every step and
every expression be fully and distinctly comprehended.
Beginners are very liable to have vague and indeterminate
notions of what a letter or expression is intended to repre-
sent. For instance, in stating the following question : A.
and B. together owed C. ^245, and A. owed him 35 shil-
lings more than B. ; how much did each owe him ? a boy
will often say, let x equal what B. owed, without designat-
ing whether x represents a certain number of dollars or
shillings. Distinctness in this respect will contribute much
to the accuracy of the reasoning and the facility with
which the problem will be solved.
In the solution of equations with several unknown
quantities, I have found it useful to accustom the students
to the three different methods of elimination, as sometimes
one is preferable to the others. When the method by ad-
ON TEACHING MATHEMATICS. 151
dition and subtraction is used, it is well to insist at first
upon the representation of these operations ; otherwise in
cases where both the plus and minus signs occur, mistakes
will often arise. With beginners, in equations of three or
four unknown quantities, it is best, according to my expe-
rience, to find a value of one of the unknown quantities
from each equation, and then form others by putting these
several values equal to each other, and so on ; as this
method is less likely to occasion mistakes than either of the
others. Bezout's ingenious method of elimination is not
well suited to boys, on account of the liability to error in
substituting. The necessity of as many conditions as
there are unknown quantities, should be pointed out, as
well as the circumstance, that equations may be identical
with each other and yet appear under different forms.
After a sufficient number of questions has been wrought
out to give the learner facility in the operations and ability
to express the conditions algebraically, the business of gen-
eralization may be commenced. The same examples that
have previously been performed, may be again wrought out,
by substituting letters instead of numbers. A partial gen-
eralization only should be attempted at first, and afterwards
numerical quantities may be entirely dispensed with. But
in all cases, at this stage of the progress, it is useful to re-
place, in the general answer, the numbers for which the
letters have been used, and afterwards substitute other
numbers, so that no misapprehension may exist in regard
to the generality of the formulae. The learner is now ad-
vanced into the region of pure algebra ; he will easily per-
form the various operations upon letters alone, and form
rules which he knows must be correct, since he sees that
letters may be used indefinitely and afterwards any num-
bers put in their place. But it is highly important that he
be accustomed to translate general results into language,
and to form rules for himself; otherwise, he is apt to com-
152 MR SHERWINS LECTURE.
mit the rules of the book to memory, without taking the
trouble to deduce them from the formulae.
The fundamental operations on pure algebraical quanti-
ties, will present little difficulty to a student, who has faith-
fully pursued the course which I have prescribed. Some
of the succeeding parts of elementary algebra, however,
require a few remarks.
Proportions should be taught algebraically, and as I pre-
fer to write them in the form of an equation between two
equal fractions, it seems to me advisable to lay aside the
denominations, antecedent and consequent, and use the
more familiar ones, numerator and denominator.
The signification of results and the modification of the
conditions of the questions accordingly, may be well illus-
trated, by problems of almost any kind ; but algebra
applied to lines is much the most effective for this pur-
pose ; for then the student plainly perceives, that a nega-
tive sign indicates a change of direction, and, in general,
that a negative is only a positive quantity taken in a
different sense.
The extraction of the second and third roots needs con-
siderable elucidation from the teacher, and my practice in
regard to it deviates, in some degree, from the mode used
in most text books. I require the learner to write the
powers, not only of binomials, but also of polynomials, the
letters of which shall represent units of different orders,
and to express them in their factors, so as to show clearly
that, in each instance, the whole root already found, is
to be doubled, or its second power tripled, as the case may
be, for a divisor.
The binomial theorem is most easily taught according
to the method of Bourdon or Lacroix ; the latter however
is rather difficult for beginners. After this theorem is per-
fectly understood, the learner will easily form a rule for
extracting roots to any degree. He will see a beautiful
ON TEACHING MATHEMATICS. 153
analogy in the methods adapted to the different degrees,
or rather one general method applicable to all.
The best methods of constructing logarithms are found
in the higher calculus; the general principle, however, may
be easily understood. But in the use of the tables, too
many are guided merely by rule, and of course are liable
to numerous mistakes. Indeed I have never seen any
algebra, which in regard to logarithms was, in all respects,
adapted to young minds. The points which need most to
be explained are the arithmetical complement and the log-
arithms of fractions, in such a form as to avoid negative
characteristics.
In conducting the recitations in algebra, I may remark,
that I do not allow the pupils to have their books open,
but require them to take down the particulars of the ques-
tion as read by the instructer. I have found this useful in
awakening the interest and securing the attention of each
individual of the class.
III. GEOMETRY.
This science is, in some respects, more satisfactory in its
proofs than that of algebra, because the evidence of the
senses assists and confirms the demonstrations of abstract
reasoning. Still I am convinced, that a blind veneration
for the ancients imposes upon this study many cumbrous
shackles. An opinion exists in the minds of some, that
analytical geometry is less demonstrative than that of the
ancients. But for myself, with a knowledge of algebra, I
do not see why correct reasoning, carried on by the aid of
signs, founded upon data to which every mind will readily
assent, should not give perfectly satisfactory results.
Thus if a and b are the representatives of certain magni-
tudes, operations upon these symbols, correctly performed,
must necessarily produce correct results ; and if these
19
154 MR SHERWI^•S LECTURK.
characters are used indefinitely, the result must be univer-
sally true, and consequently establish a general principle.
I am therefore of the opinion, that the analytical method
may be introduced in the elements more extensively than
has generally been done, and hence an additional reason
why algebra should precede geometry. I am confirmed in
my opinion by the reply of a celebrated mathematician, to
one who thought he had accomplished something great in
the true style of Euclid ; viz. " I can demonstrate all that
upon my thumb nail ; I advise you to study analytical
geometry." I do not mean by this, that anything short of
strict and rigid demonstration should be deemed satisfac-
tory, but that many parts, such, for instance, as the
theory of proportions, may, in a more concise and satis-
factory manner, be taught algebraically than geometrically.
Euclid's fifth book, containing from thirty to forty pages,
may be all clearly demonstrated in two or three by any
student acquainted with algebra.
In commencing this science, it is all important to begin
well. Be sure that the learner understands the definitions
and first principles. Good definitions are considered the
most difficult part of geometry to write, but after the text
book has been selected, the beginner should be very exact
in regard to the phraseology ; because, as the definitions
and axioms are the data of the science and must constant-
ly be appealed to, if misconception or inaccuracy of lan-
guage be tolerated, confusion will often result. I have
made it a point, therefore, to dwell upon this portion, until
my pupils are perfect masters of it. Here also illustration
is useful, and the beginner may be required, after having
learned the definitions, to express them in different words,
so that his teacher can ascertain, whether he has a true
conception of their meaning.
Some have thought it advisable to dispense with many
geometrical terms in common use, as perplexing to the
ON TEACHING MATFIEMATICS. 155
scholar, without adding anything to his stock of know-
ledge ; but terms that are convenient and express in one
word a complex idea, are as necessary in science as the
names of implements are in any mechanic art. A corollary,
for instance, is said to be a consequence which follows from
one or several propositions. Now this term is as good as
any other, and after a few lessons, the learner will become
accustomed to inquire, how particular truths are the neces-
sary consequence of what precedes. Still an excessive
multiplication of such terms ought to be avoided ; nor
should they all be given at once, but only such as occur in
one section or division of the text book.
Terms will not be completely understood until they shall
have become familiar by application, hence the teacher
should ask for the definition on a recurrence of the term.
Some teachers think that no definitions should be given
until there is immediate occasion for their use ; but when
they occur thus occasionally, they appear to the scholar
like incidental remarks, worthy of but little attention ; be-
sides, they are less easily referred to, than when placed at
the commenccincnt of the sections in which they are first
used.
In regard to the general method to be pursued in teach-
ing, some excellent precepts have been left by Pascal, which
I here translate.
1. " Never attempt to define anything so self-evident,
that there are no terms more clear by which to explain it.
2. " Leave no terms undefined, which are in any degree
obscure or equivocal.
3. " Employ in the definitions such terms only, as are
perfectly known or already explained.
4. "Leave none of the necessary principles, however
clear and evident they may be, without having asked
whether they are admitted.
5. " Demand as axioms such truths only as are perfectly
self-evident.
156 MR SHERWIN'S LECTURE.
6. •' Undertake to demonstrate none of these things
which are so self-evident, that there is nothing more clear
by which to prove them.
7. " Prove all propositions in any degree obscure, by
employing as proof, only axioms perfectly self-evident, or
truths already demonstrated or granted.
8. " Never pervert ambiguous terms, by neglecting to
substitute mentally the definitions which restrict and ex-
plain them."
Among the definitions, that of the angle is most fre-
quently misapprehended ; indeed I have known students
pursue the science some time without any just conception
of what is meant by an angle ; it is important therefore to
illustrate this definition with dividers, or lines on the black
board, so as to make it clear, that the magnitude of the
angle depends wholly on the degree of inclination or open-
ing of the lines. Carelessness in regard to the definition
of the right angle also, often produces obscurity in the
subsequent reasoning.
After the necessary definitions have been learned and
illustrated upon the black board, the student may be per-
mitted to engage in the succeeding demonstrations. And
here, at the commencement, he must be strictly watched,
to see that he clearly comprehends what is given, what is
to be proved, and when he has proved it. It may be well
for the instructer, to demonstrate a few of the first lessons
at the time of prescribing them ; or at least briefly enumer-
ate the several steps of the proof in their proper order-
After enunciating a proposition, the student should be
made to state, in his own words, the data and what is to
be demonstrated ; and when he has gone through the proof,
to recapitulate the successive steps of the reasoning?. For
instance, if two triangles have two sides and the included
angle respectively equal, and it be required to prove the
Jriangles equal, having admitted that coincidence establishes
ON TEACHING MATHEMATICS. 167
equality, the learner should keep distinctly in view the
parts that are given, and be made to see that, if a given
side be applied to its equal, the other parts must succes-
sively coincide. In order to ascertain that the reasoning
is perfectly understood, different parts having the same
relation as before may be given, or the same proposi-
tion may be demonstrated upon a figure drawn on
the black board and marked differently from that in the
book. In that kind of reasoning, in which the equality of
two magnitudes is established by the absurd consequences
of supposing them unequal, he should be made distinctly
to recognise, that, if a particular hypothesis leads to an
absurdity, or to a contradiction of some previously demon-
strated truth, the hypothesis must be false.
It is important that the learner be required to construct
his figures. This may be done upon paper with a scale
and dividers, or upon a slate or board, with a pencil or
piece of chalk having a string attached to it. At first he
must of course be guided in a great measure by the eye
alone, but after having learned the problems, he may be
required to construct the figures, according to correct prin-
ciples of drawing. This will be productive of several ben-
eficial effects. If he construct them carefully, it will
accustom him to accuracy and neatness, which are essential
in linear drawing. It will fix in his mind more effectually
the data of the proposition. He will see that the mechan-
ical operation is not susceptible of perfect accuracy, and
consequently does not amount to demonstration ; and that,
although defects exist in his figures, they do not diminish
in the least the force of the reasoning.
Also in performing the problems, which should all be ac-
tually constructed by the learner, everything ought to be
done systematically, according to the instructions given for
the several parts. I have frequently found, by pursuing
the opposite course, and requiring of the student an ex-
planation of the plate only, or by allowing him to con-
158 MR SHER WIN'S LECTURE.
Struct an extremely inaccurate and distorted figure, that
when he attempted to draw correctly, he was wholly at a
loss how to proceed. By this systematic mode of con-
structing, however, the pupil suffers one disadvantage, viz.
the loss of that improvement of the eye and hand, which
arises from drawing by their guidance alone. But this may
be easily obviated ; for after the learner has become perfectly
familiar with accurate modes of construction, he may be
required to make his drawings as well as he can, without
resorting to their aid ; and by being occasionally recalled
to the correct method of procedure, he will be taught to
remedy the defects of his eye and judgment.
Some writers, and particularly Lacroix, think it important
that problems should follow immediately, the propositions
upon which they depend, because then the proposition
and its demonstration are fresh in the mind. But I see no
necessity for this, ptkjvided that the theorems are properly
referred to ; besides, it rarely happens that a problem in-
volves but a single operation, so that in any case, a neces-
sity for reference still exists. Reference moreover to a
preceding proposition, if properly made, serves not only to
recal the truth there proved, but also, in some degree, the
process of demonstration. I see therefore no valid objec-
tion to placing the problems after the sections upon which
they principally depend. Thus placed they are more
easily found, when the learner is at a loss how to proceed
in any construction.
Problems may be given to the learners in various parts
of the course, different from those contained in the text-
book, and they be left to solve them by their own ingenuity
and their knowledge of the science. I have found this
method very useful, as it excites a higher degree of interest
than questions in which the operations are wholly explained,
and makes the learner conscious of his own powers.
I have before expressed an opinion that proportions
ON TEACHING MATHEMATICS. 159
should be taught algebraically, although some, among
whom is Mr Young, a popular English writer, maintain
that nothing but the geometrical method can prove the
theory of them in all its rigor. But I must confess that, so
far from seeing any essential defect in the algrehraical de-
monstration, compared with the geometrical, I think it gives
the student a better knowledge of the nature of propor-
tions, and more effectually fits him for the work of investi-
gation. All that relates to them should however be made
as plain as possible. For this purpose I would have them
written in the form of fractions and read as such. That
a is to 6 as c is to d conveys but indefinite notions to the
mind of a beginner, but the expression ^ = ^ is perfectly
intelligible to him who understands the nature effractions.
The learner should be made thoroughly acquainted with
that species of equations which constitute proportions, and
the various changes and combinations to ^vhich they are
subject. If he is told that when two proportions have a
common ratio, the other two ratios form a proportion, he
seldom sees any reason why this is the case ; but after hav-
ing recognised the axiom, that two quantities, each of
which is equal to a third, are equal to each other, he
readily perceives, that, if one member of one equation
is equal to one member of another, the two other mem-
bers are equal; and I generally require it to be stated,
that, because two of the members or fractions are equal
or identical, the others are equal. Also when a pro-
portion has been obtained the absurdity of which is to
be shown, instead of saying, because the first term is
greater than the second, the third should exceed the fourth,
(or as the case may be,) I require the scholar to change
the place of the means so as to make a fraction less stand
equal to a fraction greater than unity ; the absurdity of
which he immediately perceives, and hence the impossibil-
ity, that the hypothesis from which this absurdity arises.
160 MR SHERWINS LECTURE.
should be true. In making changes upon proportions,
although the student may be allowed to cite general princi-
ples previously established, yet he ought to be able to
demonstrate them in the given case.
There is one portion of geometry which has given to
writers upon this science much trouble and perplexity ; I
allude to the theory of parallel lines, as it is called. Ge-
ometers generally admit, that this has never been rigidly
demonstrated. Euclid demands as a postulate or truth to
be admitted, that if two straight lines make with a third
two interior angles, the sum of which is less than two right
angles, these lines, if produced sufficiently far, will meet.
Indeed it is one of those truths which can hardly be ren-
dered more clear by proof. Legendre has given a solution
which, if not perfectly rigid, produces entire conviction ;
and indeed amounts to a demonstration, if we admit that
two lines which constantly approach each other, will ulti-
mately meet. In the later editions of his work, this author
has pursued a different method in regard to parallel lines,
by first proving that the sum of the three angles of any
triangle is equal to two right angles ; but the demonstra-
tion is tedious and difficult for beginners, and is therefore
rarely understood.
Some propositions require in their proof either the
reductio ad absurdum, the method of indivisibles, or that of
ultimate ratios. Reductios are sometimes tedious, but not
always more so than other methods, and to a youthful
mind, it is the most satisfactory, provided that it is fully
understood. This however depends in a great measure
upon the teacher. If he requires boys thirteen or fourteen
years old, merely to repeat the words of the book, there
is a strong probability that the force of the demonstration
will not be perceived ; but by proper care and instruction,
all obscurity may be dispelled and this kind of reasoning
be made productive of perfect conviction. Suppose, for
ON TEACHING MATHEMATICS. 161
example, it is to be proved that the area of a circle is equal
to the circumference multiplied by half the radius. The
learner must first be convinced that the product of two
lines gives a surface, and this fact will have been communi-
cated by the preceding propositions. Then the convic-
tion follows that this product of the circumference by half
the radius, must be the measure of the circle in question,
or of a greater or less circle, the two last of which leading
to palpable absurdities, the first remains incontestably true.
Still, in cases of this kind, great care is requisite to see
that the learner keep his hypothesis steadily in view, and
have a clear perception of the dependence and connexion
among the several parts of the demonstration. Now, if
according to the method of indivisibles, the circle be con-
sidered as a regular polygon of an infinite number of sides,
the truth would flash at once upon a mature mind, but to
a youth, it would not seem rigidly proved.
The same precautions as those mentioned above, should
be used in reductios relative to solids ; particularly, the
student should distinctly recognise, that a surface multi-
plied by a fine produces a solid, and that such a product
must either give the solid in question, or one greater or less.
It may be well, however, after the pupil has learned one
species of demonstration, to give him a specimen of another,
in proof of the same proposition. This will accustom him
to the different modes of reasoning, more effectually pre-
pare him for comprehending other treatises than those in
immediate use, and enable him to make further advances
in the science without the aid of a teacher.
In all the demonstrations of geometry, it is of the highest
importance to require a reason for everything ; that is, a
constant reference to axioms or truths previously demon-
strated ; and a distinct statement should be made of the
axiom or proposition employed. In referring to a previous
theorem, it is not necessary to give the number of it, but
20
162 MR SHER WIN'S LECTURE. '
the figure, upon which it was proved, may be pointed out
Indeed the simple question, why ? often repeated, is th<
best preventative against making this study a mere repeti
tion of words, without any proper conception, on the par
of the learner, of the force of the reasoning.
Models may be advantageously used in teaching the
! geometry of planes and solids; although I think that
correct diagrams are sufficient, provided that the learner
is made acquainted with a few of the simplest principles of
perspective. On arriving at this part of the science, my
practice has been to give some illustration of the appear-
ances of objects under different points of view. Begin-
ners are easily made to comprehend, that the most remote
parts of objects appear most diminished ; that a right line,
viewed in the direction of its length, will seem to be a
point ; that a circle seen in the direction of its plane, is
a straight line ; and seen obliquely, it is an ellipse, &c.
which simple notions will enable them to understand the
plates.
While learning the demonstrations in geometry, it is
important that the scholar should write his equations, pro-
portions, &c. upon a slate or piece of paper. This will
serve to give him a clear view of the successive steps, and of
the order in which they should succeed each other ; it pre-
vents a rapid and confused perusal of the proof, and is one
of the most effectual modes of committing understandingly
the process of demonstration. Indeed in this, as in all
other parts of the mathematics, the pupil should study
with pen and pencil in hand.
With young persons reviews are very necessary to rapid
and thorough progress. It is not sufficient that they once
understood the proofs ; many of the earlier portions of
geometry are to supply elementary truths, or instruments,
as it were, which are to be used in the succeeding parts.
Now much depends upon our skill in the use and applica-
ON TEACHING MATHEMATICS. 1 63
tion of these, and this skill is acquired, only when we are
perfectly familiar with them. Besides, the learner rarely
sees the full force of the reasoning on the first perusal, but
by reviewing, truths which were before obscure or quite
dark, burst upon the mind with new light. The reasoning
powers are strengthened, the scholar comprehends more
fully the force and nature of demonstrative evidence, ac-
quires increased means of investigation, and advances with
greater confidence in his own ability to conquer the diffi-
culties with which he may meet. I have, therefore, required
of my pupils a review of the preceding lesson in connexion
with each new one ; and, at the end of each week, a review
of the week's study. This practice of reviewing serves
also as a test to determine whether all the individuals of
the division have studied understandingly ; for, he who
commits words without a thorough comprehension of the
reasoning, will be almost sure to fail in the review of a
week's work. I think it would be well if students were
taught some of the principles of logic, previously to their
engaging in the study of geometry, as they often commence
this science without the least knowledge of the different
modes of reasoning, or the kinds of proof applicable to
different subjects.
When the learner is well versed in arithmetic, algebra
and geometry, he is qualified to learn and understand trig-
onometry and its principal applications, such as mensura-
tion, navigation, &c., which are sometimes comprehended
under the title of topography ; also linear drawing, analyt-
ical geometry, and if time and opportunity permit, the
differential and integral calculus. He is now capable of
engaging, with pleasure and profit, in the study of the differ-
ent departments of natural philosophy. Mechanics, phy-
sics, and astronomy will be pursued with delight, and be-
come productive of that ennobling and elevating effect
upon the mind, which generally results from an acquaint-
164 MR SHERWINS LECTURE.
ance with the wonders of the universe, when the student
is accustomed to refer them to their Divine Author.
The principles of teaching the mixed are so similar to
those for the pure mathematics, that details would be super-
fluous, even if time did not forbid an enumeration of them.
It has been thought by some that very little of pure mathe-
j matics is necessary in order to understand natural philoso-
I phy. True, a great many facts may be learned by experi-
ment and illustration, and many others from the mere asser-
tion of authors ; but in my opinion, any knowledge of a
science which admits of demonstration, is extremely super-
ficial, if acquired otherwise than by this kind of proof. It
is true also, that many of our mechanics, engineers and
navigators, by following their rules, work, in most cases,
correctly ; but mere routine without an understanding of
the reasons for the operations, confines the energies of the
mind, circumscribes the inventive genius of man, and often
leads to fatal mistakes.
It is proper perhaps that I should make a few remarks
on the progress of mathematics in this country, and the
books most in use. Fifteen years ago, the study of mathe-
i_ matics among us, with the exception of geometry, consisted
principally in the application of a set of rules. These
i afforded no evidence to the student that they were
not perfectly arbitrary, except that if he was so fortunate
as to apply them correctly, he obtained the answers sub-
joined to the questions.
Of the works which have served to introduce a better
method of studying mathematics, are the Cambridge course,
principally translated from the French, and Colburn's works.
There are many other works of no inconsiderable merit,
but I have selected these, because, in addition to their
intrinsic worth, they have taken the lead in raising the
standard of scientific studies. Among those prepared for
the College, Legendre's Geometry stands pre-eminent.
ON TEACHING MATHEMATICS. 165
Indeed, I know none which, for clearness, order, and the
convincing nature of its proofs, surpasses this. Euler's
Algebra, and Lacroix's Arithmetic and Algebra have much
merit. The same may be said generally of the other parts
of the course. Some deficiences and redundances indeed
exist in these works, but a judicious and well qualified
teacher will be able to modify the course of instruction so
as to suit almost any class of learners. The principal
changes to be desired in Legendre, are, that proportions be
written in the form of fractions and read accordingly, and
that in some cases the converse of propositions be supplied.
The improvement arising from the introduction of this
course at Harvard University was great ; it contributed
much to the interests of the Institution, and did honor to
the gentleman by whose labors and talents it was effected.
It is, therefore, with regret, that I see some of the best
works of the course rejected, and others of less merit sub-
stituted in their place. Whether this change be owing to
the opinion of those who have the direction of the studies,
that the works substituted are really preferable to those
displaced, or that the latter are too difficult for the students,
I have no means of judging. But in regard to the former
supposition, others may honestly differ from them in opin-
ion ; and in regard to the latter, I will merely say, that if
boys thirteen years old can learn these books, there seems
to be no reason why the students of Harvard College
should be inadequate to the task.
No man among us has contributed so much to a correct
method of studying mathematics as the lanjented Colburn.
True, his method was not wholly original, as he has fol-
lowed the general principles of Pestalozzi ; but I have no
hesitation in saying, that his books are not only the best
in this country, but, so far as my information extends, the
best in the world. The First Lessons are above all praise.
The Sequel admits of some improvements, and such the
166 MR SHERWIN'S LECTURE.
author has left in manuscript, which will probably be pub-
lished. Some object to this work, that it is overloaded
with examples for practice; not reflecting that facility and
rapidity are highly important in arithmetical operations ;
and that it is much easier to omit superfluous examples
than to supply new ones. In the Algebra, I can object to
no part except the binomial theorem, of which the author
gave an original demonstration, and from this circumstance,
his own would appear to him more simple and intelligible
than any other mode. But for myself, I prefer the more
concise method of Bourdon, which, I think, may be per-
fectly comprehended even by boys. All of these works
are, however, excellent in their kind, and objections to
them, wherever they exist, have arisen, I believe, from the
ignorance, indolence, or prejudice of teachers.
Of Mr Colburn as a man, a friend, a husband, a father
and a Christian, perhaps it would be out of place for me to
speak before this assembly. But I crave the indulgence of
the single remark, that for warmth of affection, devoted-
ness to his family and friends, purity and simplicity of
mind, high moral and religious principle, ardor and perse-
verance in philanthropic exertions, he has been surpassed
by few. As a man of science, his talents were of the first
order ; his inventive powers were considerable, and his
reasoning clear and comprehensive. In the deatli of Mr
Colburn, our country has lost a benefactor, and science
one of its brightest ornaments.
Ebbatum.— Page 152, line 13, before results inse't nrgativt.
LECTURE VI.
ow
THE DANGEROUS TENDENCY
TO
INNOVATIONS AND EXTREMES
EDUCATION.
Bt HUBBARD WINSLOW.
INNOVATIONS IN EDUCATION.
Education comprehensively considered presents a sub-
ject of vast magnitude and of transcendant interest. We
are instructed that no subject more deeply engages the
mind of God. The training up of his intelligent offspring
to honor and immortality, is his greatest and most benevo-
lent work ; and to co-operate with him in it, while the
most useful and honorable, is yet the most arduous and
difficult of all human employments. We should therefore
be slow to censure those engaged in it ; remembeting that
it is easier to criticise than to execute ; to find fault with
others than to do better ourselves. It were unreasonable
to expect that the difficulties of education are to be sur-
mounted without some abortive and dangerous innovations
and extremes.
But the precipitous movements of the present age seem
to have multiplied them to an extraordinary degree ; inso-
much that we rest not upon one point long enough to make
a fair experiment, before we fly to another. Indeed inno-
vation seems to be the prevailing spirit of our age. It is
not restricted to this country, or to the subject of educa-
tion. A large portion of the political, civil, and religious
world is partaking of it. Ancient dynasties are crumbling ;
political maxims are revoked ; venerable authorities are
laughed at ; established principles are contested ; civil
21
1 70 MR WINSLOW'S LECTURE.
institutions are overturned ; organized systems and mea-
sures, which have survived centuries, are broken up; and
the whole framework of society seems to be in a progress
of revolution. It is the reaction of an opposite extreme of
a past age, and the vibration is tremendously strong and
deep. Extreme jealousy of personal rights, and a conse-
quent extreme idolatry of personal opinion, are inducing
multitudes to act irrespectively of superior rights and to
despise the opinions and maxims of their fathers.
Doubtless there are beneficial tendencies in these con-
vulsive movements ; but there are also some baneful ten-
dencies, demanding strenuous resistance. There is danger
lest in our zeal to cast away what is bad, we cast away the
good with it. On no subject does this danger press more
directly than on that of education. The cause of educa-
tion, being eminently popular, sympathises very deeply and
extensively in the prevailing spirit of the times ; and those
to whom its interests are entrusted are under strong in-
ducements to yield to the popular impulse. By innovating
upon doctrines and practices tested by long and wise expe-
rience, and by pushing out supposed principles to the
extremes of ultraism, instead of conducting the human
mind steadily forward towards the goal, they will only
send it round in a circle of revolutions.
It is a most rare and enviable wisdom, to retain all that
is valuable in antiquity and to relinquish all that is useless, —
to so chastise our associations, as discreetly to disconnect
the gold from the dross accumulated in the mines of past
experience, and, by availing ourselves of whatever enrich-
eth, and disengaging ourselves of whatever encumbereth,
press forward to greater attainments. There is a wise
medium between the extremes of a servile admiration and
a reckless contempt of antiquity. The one prevents the
aggressive movements of mind, by chaining it to the past
and rebuking elementary thinking ; the other neither en-
INNOVATIONS IN EDUCATION. 171
riches it from the past, nor carries it forward to future
discoveries, but keeps it continually revolving and sinking
in the whirlpool of its own independent and furious con-
ceits. He who sets forth on the perilous future uninstruct-
ed by the past, will ultimately land, not in advance of his
age, but in a pit of oblivion somewhere beneath the point
whence he started.
The study and experience of several thousand years
have not been entirely in vain. They have developed
some facts and established some principles in respect to
education, which must be practically recognised in all suc-
cessful attempts to improve the human race. Hence wise
men are slow to embrace new doctrines, and prompt to
reject those subversive of well established principles ; nor
are they in haste to reduce theories to practice, not well
sustained by the experience of past time. Not unfre-
quently it happens that enthusiastic and conceited minds,
leaping after novelties, and walking only in the sparks of
their own kindling, instead of guiding their course by the
strong light of history, after long and weary labor have
been mortified to find that they have made no valuable
progress. The ground over which they have passed had
been trodden by others, equally in vain ; the beacons which
they have erected by the way at great expense, had been
erected by other minds ages before, and subsequently de-
molished by minds still wiser.
It is no slander, but common-place truth, to say, that
the present is not an age of deep, strong, thorough think-
ing. Of profound study there is great impatience. Calm
and solemn inquiry is rare. The mind of this generation
is restive, feverish, impassioned, and consequently prone to
a reckless radicalism. The venerable locks of antiquity,
whitened with the frost of nearly six thousand winters,
have been torn off by some ruthless hand, and childhood
has become emboldened to say, " Go up, bald head .'"
1 72 MR WINSLOW'S LECTURE.
The tendency of this spirit of innovation is, to unsettle
important principles and set everything afloat upon the
capricious tide of popular feeling. Let us briefly notice
its bearings upon the subject of education, which for
convenience we divide into physical, intellectual and
moral.
I. PHYSICAL EDUCATION.
This is deservedly engaging much attention, and we are
not sparing of anthemas upon antiquity for neglecting it.
Still it is desirable that the public be more extensively and
definitely enlightened, both in respect to its object and its
mode. To the views usually maintained in that excellent
work, the Annals of Education, the speaker most cordially
assents as sound and valuable. Temperate and judicious
exhibitions of the nature and importance of physical culture,
are timely and important ; but the ultra notions are becom-
ing prevalent, that large physical developement and high
toned physical energy constitute the substratum of mind,
and are essential to the loftiest intellectual achievements.
Hence the abundance of declamation and loose remark
upon the importance of gymnastic exercise. At some of
our schools and colleges gymnasia are constructed for the
express purpose, it would seem, of educating the muscles.
Other literary institutions embrace a system of manual
labor, laying under demand a considerable portion of their
pupils' time. As though great strength, agility and mag-
nitude of the physical system were essential to the stu-
dent's object, the doctrine is becoming popular, that he
who would aspire to long life and intellectual eminence,
nmst make a large sacrifice of time and attention to the
same kind of discipline with those whose employment for
life is to be physical labor.
As far forth as systems of manual labor in connexion
INNOVATIONS IN EDUCATION. 173
with literary institutions can subserve needed pecuniary
ends, they have their importance ; but their ultimate and
prolonged success is questionable. That so much of the
exercise and strength of the laborer should be put upon
the student, as the modern doctrine teaches, seems to be
against both nature and experience. Even a priori reason-
ing would teach us, tliat if God has intended a division of
labor, he has so constituted the human system that it may
be trained to different pursuits. All mankind are destined
to some degree of mental cultivation ; but he who is to be
professionally engaged for life in intellectual pursuits, must
be as far as possible totus in illis, and must therefore train
himself to the least physical necessities and to the greatest
and most continued intellectual effort practicable, leaving
the more special cultivation of sinews and muscles to those
who have a more special use for them.
The calling of the laborer is as honorable, useful and
important as is that of the student, but these two callings
do not require the same kind of training, either physically or
intellectually ; nor is the physical system of the student
to be kept in the same condition with that of the laborer,
any more than the intellectual system of the laborer is to be
kept in the same state with that of the student. Man
was not designed to be a fac totum. Let so much of his
time, thoughts, and feelings be expended upon his physical
cultivation as is requisite to develope all his physical pow-
ers in their utmost strength and luxuriance, and so much
goes to the animal that ordinarily little goes to the intellec-
tual. That physical perfection is not essential to mental em-
inence, is evident from the fact that men of the most distin-
guished minds have even usually had a thorn in the flesh.
We may go still farther and assert, what may seem unpardon-
able heresy, that there are some reasons for believing that
Paul, Plato and Demosthenes, Newton, Baxter and Hall
even owed a portion of their eminence to their physical
1^ MR WINSLOW'S LECTURE.
infirmities, nerving ihem to higher intellectualization, ren-
dering them less sensual and more spiritual. no
The ancient Grecians and Romans excelled in physical
culture; but what of their wonderful models of the human
frame, handed down to us by the chisel and the brush ?
Noble boxers, wrestlers, racers, leapers, mighty in all feats
of physical prowess, they were ; but which of them con-
tained intellectual minds. As a general fact, their distin-
guished minds were of another class. Nearly the whole
galaxy of Grecian and Roman scholars, who shed the
everlasting glory of intellect upon their nations, were un-
known in feats of prowess, and are most of them recorded
to have been men of rather slender physical developement
or <jf some bodily infirmity. Modern biography speaks
to the same point of the long catalogue of German, French,
British and American scholars. Two of the most distin-
guished poets and theologians, were much indebted for their
greatness to the want of eyes. The brightest and most
exuberant sanctified intellect that ever honored America,
inhabited a feeble body, of calm and uniform but never
high health and almost no activity, being from twelve to
sixteen hours every day in the study. Had Socrates and
Virgil given their time and their interest to the cultivation
of their physical powers, as did the wrestlers and boxers,
they would not have become the philosopher and the poet
which they did. The intellectual acumen of the one, and
the fine sensibilities of the other, would have been wanting.
Had Newton and Edwards devoted four or five hours a
day to physical labor, they would never have pushed their
minds as profoundly as they did into the kingdoms of
natural and mental philosophy. Those students who bear
the palm in gymnastic exercises, are usually the poorest
scholars. Famous at the trencher, they are dull at study.
Strongly given to the animal, they are seldom eminently
intellectual. ■:':'.','.
INNOVATIONS IN EDUCATION. 175
The history of mind seems therefore to have estab-
lished the principle, that the physical system of the pro-
fessional student should be educated not as that of the
laboring man. He should have a more intellectual, or, as
Paul might call it, a more spiritual body. He must keep
under his body, and bring it into subjection to his mind.
In examining the histories of eminent scholars we find, as
a general fact, that instead of lusty dinners, attended with
several hours a day of physical labor, to amplify and
ennoble the stomach and the muscles, they diminished their
physical demands ; they practised severe but prudent absti-
nence, they tempered and subdued their animal lusts, they
rose early in the morning, they ate little, slept little,
thought much, they cultivated philosophical and cheerful
habits of mind, they devoted a large portion of their time,
in some vi^ay, to intellectual and moral cultivation ; they
gave that kind and degree of attention to the body,
which would render its condition most easy, its necessities
fewest, and its habits most accommodating to the mind.
Exercise and recreation are important to the student, but
they should be such as to improve and interest his mind,
while they benefit his body. Botanical, mineralogical and
geological excursions ; exploring the curiosities of nature ;
occasional unbending with music and the fine arts ; a
morning walk with Thomson, and a little of the elixir of
good living society, with strict temperance and a cheerful
temper, may usually serve him the double purpose of at
once sustaining his health and enriching his mind. The
great evil is, that most students in our schools and colleges
are totally ignorant of the laws of life, and know not how
to regulate their diet, to graduate their exercise and to form
their habits as students ought to. Were half the time
and expense bestowed upon the erection of gymnasia and
work-shops given to support an experienced, scientific,
wise lecturer, who should visit our literary institutions and
176 MR WINSLOW'S LECTURE.
instruct their pupils how to live, it is confidently believed
that we should have more scholarship and less dyspepsia.
We are no advocates for asceticism and a studied corpo-
ral attenuation, and certainly we would not wittingly insert
or cultivate thorns in the flesh ; — they usually come fast
enough of themselves. We would rather so bring the
body into subjection, as to render them unnecessary. We
care not how comfortable the student's accommodations,
how spacious and airy his room, how commodious his desk,
whether he sit upon a naked bench or a cushion ; we would
only have him avoid notions and extremes, think as httle
of his body as possible, and adopt the simple style of living
appropriate to his calling. As to that all important organ,
the stomach, the seat of life and sensibility, the source of
so much joy and sorrow to man while man is mortal, we
consider it a blessed ignorance if no symptoms shall ever
admonish him that he has one.
But public attention is now directed from the stomach
to the head. The craniological fever is on, and will have
its run. Blessed is the man now, who has a fine skull !
Any novice, who has just taken a peep into anatomy and
physiology and their vital connexion with mental science,
who has read Bichat, Broussais and Combe, but especially
Gall and Spurzheim — can determine the intrinsic phe-
nomena of his neighbor's mind, with the place and memner
of its growth ; and, by ocular and sensible demonstration,
can reveal its character and size, with an assurance which
will surprise a future generation. The venerable doctrine
of heathen India, that the intellectual and moral fate of
every man is written in the sutures of his skull, is spring-
ing up among us with the pretended charms of novelty,
though somewhat disrobed of its oriental beauty. Phre-
nology, thoroughly studied and understood, unfolds some
interesting general facts, but the present charms of its de-
tails are adapted to fascinate animalized minds of fanciful
INNOVATIONS IN EDUCATION. 177
temperament, rather than minds of a severely intellectual
and scientific character.
Allowing brain to be the organ of intellectual operations
and membrane of sensibilities and moral affections, which
we believe to be sound doctrine, or admitting the more
popular doctrine, that all the operations of the soul have
pitched their tent together in the head, is not the quality
and condition of brain as important as the quantity and
shape ? The vigor of the hepatic secretions does not de-
pend so much upon the shape and size of the liver, or of
the ductus choledochus, as upon its quality, its healthful-
ness, its right condition in point of adaptedness to other
related organs. So of all the physical organs and func-
tions, in their relations both to the body and to the mind.
So many facts and circumstances, not obvious to external
inspection, are connected with their vigorous or feeble
operations, that we are slow to forestall our judgment of
men by the appearance of their heads, or any other ex-
ternal marks. With becoming deference therefore to the
sublimely important and interesting sciences of craniology,
ophthalmoscopy, nosology, physiognomy, gastronology,
dermoidonology and myonology, all of which have found
their advocates and are entitled to their day, which afford
amusement, and help the confident to know and the wise
to guess, we must still be allowedj when we would sit in
sober judgment upon men, to adhere to the good old fash-
ion, and judge every man mainly according to his deeds ;
and not by the volume or protuberances of his cranium and
the height and majesty of his forehead ; or by the shape,
magnitude and polish of his eye; or by the contour, elon-
gation and luxuriance of his nose ; or by the configuration
and cast of his face ; or by the periphery, diameter and
longitude of his perigastrium ; or by the complexion and
texture of his epidermis ; or by the strength and rigidity,
or the feebleness and beauty of his muscle.
22
..if
178 MR WINSLOW'S LECTURE.
II. INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION.
Probably nothing will be gained by a resurrection of the
old question of the schools, whether the mind's original
and elementary knowledge is innate or intuitive^ The
following practical principles are established, that it is the
chief pbject of intellectual education to discipline the in-
tellect, that this can be done only by severe thought and
study, and that the best materials for these lie in the king-
doms of mathematical, physical, and moral science, and of
language and logic.
As we estimate a merchant's education, not by the
amount of his wealth, but by his skill to obtain it ; and as
we estimate a mechanic's education, not by the quantity
of his materials, but by his dexterity to work them into
beauty and utility, so do we estimate a scholar's education,
not so much by his stock of knowledge as by his ability to
explore, originate, and wisely use it. To this ability, there
is no short and downy path. Nature may be more gener-
ous to some than to others ; but as no man's body, how-
ever felicitously formed by nature, can become strong
without exercise, so of his mind. Indolence, indulgence,
and dainties can never give dexterity and strength either to
body or mind, however blessed of nature.
Innovation is replete with devices to avoid severe study,
to mark out some expeditious and royal road, and to make
precocious exhibition of large and splendid acquisitions of
popular knowledge. The consequence is a luxurious
growth of mushroom scholars.
Commencing with the early stage of education, we often
find pupils pushed forward unprepared to future studies —
learning history, geography, grammar and rhetoric, before
they have learned to spell and read ; making a display of
algebra a'nd geometry, before they have learned vulgar arith-
INNOVATIONS IN EDUCATION. 179
metic ; launching into natural philosophy, before they have
learned the pure mathematics needful to a scientific pur-
suit of that study ; and sometimes passing off a flippant
exhibition in Latin and French, while profoundly ignorant
of the grammatical alphabet and rules of those languages.
Ascending to the higher institutes and colleges, we find
some of them expunging a part of the regular course.
Some would dispense with the more knotty and useless
mathematics, others with the dead languages ; others
would leave the course optional with the student, like leav-
ing the direction of a ship optional to a novice on unex-
plored waters; others would substitute lectures for study,
all aiming to accommodate the popular taste, and to effect
the same desideratum — scholarship without study.
There is perhaps some apology for teachers, if in the age
of rail -roads and multifarious f abridgements of labor and
time, they come in for a share of the improvements. We
should therefore be as forbearing as possible towards the
substitution of mere lecturing for teaching, and the various
forms of Lancasterian instruction in the place of personal
attention. But as we have no rail- roads to the temple of
science, and as thorough scholars are not made by proxy,
we must be allowed to express our dissent from all innova-
tions upon the immediate and laborious contact of the
mind of the teacher with the mind of his pupil, and our
conviction that no school ought to contain more pupils than
the teacher or teachers can give personal and suflScient
attention to.
There is also a modern adaptation of books, to the dis-
astrous convenience of both teachers and pupils. Every-
thing, to use a homely figure, is cut and dried to their use,
chasms filled up, difficulties explained, inferences made,
ingenuity forestalled, questions and answers all prepared,
lessons to be learned by nothing but memory and answered
with parrot tongue. For the same reason that he is a bad
180 MR WINSLOW'S LECTURE.
teacher who does not tax the patience and ingenuity of his
pupil, is that a bad book, which so explains and facilitates
as not to call for the exercise of discretion, invention, and
judgment, as well as of memory. Indeed we have too
many books of every description, adapted to please rather
than to profit.
The plan of teaching, to a great extent, by visible signs,
plates, figures, machines, has its facilities ; but beyond
a moderate limit its utihty is questionable. It may help
the mind to a more easy and distinct view of its object, but
does not throw it upon the resources of its imagination,
and compel it to patient, sustained, vigorous abstraction.
There are numerous subjects in the higher kingdoms of
science, which do not admit of visible illustrations ; and
the pupil who forms the habit of depending upon them
while passing through the lower, will find it difficult to go
alone through the higher. The imagination cannot com-
mand mature and well balanced wings^, the moment they
are needed ; they must be cultivated and exercised from
the first moment the mind begins to move. Moreover, the
most important part of mental discipline and that at pre-
sent most defective, is the power of abstract thinking and
generalization. Many scholars with heads full of lumber, for
want of this power never turn it to any valuable account.
It cannot be disguised that we have too much servility
to popular taste, too many novelties and experiments, too
many plans and contrivances to accommodate indolent
ignorance, too much light reading and too little study, to
raise up a generation of great original intellects.
The evils of this superficial kind of education are many
and serious, afllecting both the learned professions and the
general classes and interests of society. Under its influ-
ence, preaching becomes either intolerably stale and com-
mon-place, or degenerates into fiery declamation, loose
harangue, and a constant marshaling of startling thoughts
INNOVATIONS IN EDUCATION. 181
and bold figures ; devoid of that unique, logical, consecu-
tive course of rich thought and argument, which gives
solid edification and permanent interest. That we have so
few eminent lawyers and civilians, is not so much because
only a few have by reading amassed legal and civil know-
ledge, as because so many have failed to secure by study,
that discipline which enables the mind to use its knowledge
to purpose. The same remark applies in some measure to
the medical profession. One great reason why so many in
every rank and calling are governed by excitement, are
thus fluctuating, capricious, the tools of demagogues, is,
that they have never been taught to think. They can read,
feel, talk and act ; but to study, deliberate, and wisely
judge, they know not. If we would save our literature^
the honor of our national intellect, our institutions and our
country, we must adhere to the good old doctrine — no
SHORT AND ROYAL ROAD. Patient and prolonged applica-
tion, is the only means of a sound intellectual growth.
Parents and guardians must be more jealous of those
measures which profess to obviate the necessity of so much
study ; remembering that thorough education is a work of
time. It makes no brilliant displays of knowledge at first,
but eventually secures the palm.
III. MORAL EDUCATION.
This is undoubtedly among the most important of subjects,
involving all temporal and eternal interests. So momen-
tous it is, and so fraught with hazards, that God has taken
to himself its supervision and issued special laws and
instructions respecting it.
Moral education, is carrying into effect the divine govern-
ment over accountable minds. All dangerous innovations
in this department, are evasions of the thorough discipline
enjoined in the Bible. Our noble ancestors made the
1 82 MR WINSLOW'S LECTURE.
Bible a school-book, and insisted upon its authority in the
government of their schools and families. But we have
nearly banished it from our schools, and many of us even
from our families, at least as supreme authority in the train-
ing of our children ; inculcating what we consider a more
humane, enlightened, refined system of government. In-
deed it is even proposed, and the experiment is in progress
to reduce all government to mere ^erswasion; at least, to
annihilate all physical chastisements.
The Bible predicates indispensable virtues of the rod ;
but we are for casting it aside as a relic of barbarous ages.
In the Bible we read something like this — " The rod and
reproof give wisdom. Chastise thy scin while there is hope
and let not thy soul spare for his crying. Foolishness is
bound in the heart of a child, but the rod of correction
shall drive it far from him. He that spareth the rod hateth
his son." But we are for maintaining that he who useth the
rod, hateth his son, and would fain convert that efficient
instrument into an oriental metaphor ! But how could
the figure have the place and meaning which it has in the
Scriptures, without the existence and use of the real instru-
ment whence it was taken ?
The foundation of regeneracy and a religious character
or the reverse, is usually laid in childhood. The principles
on which God conducts towards the subjects of his gov-
ernment, should be practised upon in the conduct of
parents and teachers towards children. The earthly parent
sustains to his infant children, in many respects, the place
of their Heavenly Parent ; he is pro-tempore their su-
preme moral master ; and hence the principles with which
he trains them, should be those with which God will meet
them, when they come to recognise themselves as subjects
of his government. Deviation from this will be followed
by disaster.
If the parent does not subdue his children to his autho-
INNOVATIONS IN EDUCATION. 1 85
rity, but allows them to have their own will, when the
parental is transferred to the divine government they will
still claim the same indulgence. Thus have they been
educated ; and will the Ethiopian change his skin ? If
he trifles with their misconduct and passes lightly over it,
he prepares them to consider all sin as a small and venial
offence, and to disbelieve the great sacrifice which it has
cost. If he practises threatening without executing, he
teaches them to despise the threatenings of God and disbe-
lieve future punishment. If he fails to teach them the
importance of a wisdom superior to their own to guide
them, he trains them up to despise the wisdom of God and
discard the Bible. It might thus be shown, that all the
essential doctrines and precepts of religion, or their oppo-
sites, may be inculcated upon the mind and moulded into
the habits of children ; and
I " Just as the twig is bent, the tree 's inclined."
Ajnd even if some children subsequently surmount the dis-
astrous effects of early bad training and become religious,
their early formed evil habits will be besetting sins and re-
tard their Christian growth through life. Falsehood,
deception, idleness, sensuality, lust of money or praise or
power, will hang round them all their days, and will be
like lead upon their wings when they would rise, and
render what had otherwise been sound and vigorous,
maimed, and feeble Christians. Thus prolonged is the
inffuence of early training, for good or for evil.
Children left to their chosen way, are left to ruin. Hence
the first step towards their salvation is, to control their
choice ; that is, to subdue their wills to rightful authority.
What then shall we say of a strange notion of modern time,
that we ought not to subject their wills, lest we enervate
their characters and render them tame and spiritless ? Is
this divine wisdom or human ? Now the fundamental
184 MR WINSLOWS LECTURE.
motive to obedience is fear. Other powerful motives
operate, but all are ultimately sustained by this. Take this
away, and all other motives lose their efficacy. Hence
the first practical lesson for children is, that transgression is
followed by punishment. If they sin, they will suffer. There
are two methods of evading this ; the one partial, the other
total. The first is, by instructing them that transressors
receive from nature all their suflfering as they go along.
This is a total evasion, since they consent to whatever of
inconvenience they experience from their sin for the sake
of its pleasure. They make an unwise choice, but still
they are pleased to make it. The, other evasion is, by
instructing them that the penalty of sin, though not all
experienced at the time, is made up by subsequent rebukes
of conscience. It is important often to turn the attention
of children, as well as of men, to the inherent miseries of
sin ; but all attempts to sustain the authority of moral gov-
ernment by this means alone, will fail. They overlook the
important fact, that sin directs its desolating blow outward
upon the community, and that consequently the govern-
ment which protects the public interest must send back the
penalty. So does the divine government, so do good civil
governments, so do good school governments, so do good
parental governments. It is thus, that the rod and reproof
give wisdom, — teaching children what they are to expect
forever under the righteous government of God. If they
will inflict evil upon the government under which they live,
that government will inflict evil upon them. With the
merciful it will show itself merciful, with the upright it will
show itself upright, with the pure it will show itself pure,
and with the froward it will show itself froward ! This is
the true doctrine. Teach your children any other, and they
will probably bring down your gray hairs with sorrow to the
grave.
It is notorious that indulged children become hard-
INNOVATIONS IN EDUCATION. 185
hearted, ungrateful, cruel to their parents in advanced life.
There is no true and abiding love towards a parent, whera
there is not genuine respect for authority. They first con-
temn his authority, then despise him, then hate him, then
resent, disregard and abuse him. They claim it as a right
to have their wishes gratified ; they revenge refusal. Why
should they not ? They are but carrying out the principles
in which he has educated them. Their parent has
taught them so. He has not trained them up in the way
they should go, but in the way they would go. He has suf-
fered human wisdom to reverse the mandate of divine. He
has accommodated his government to their selfish wills,
instead of subduing those wills to rightful authority. The
consequence is, a continued and growing misunderstanding
and variance between them and the authorities over them ;
first between them and their parent, then between them
and their teacher, then between them and their Bible, then
between them and their God, and this breach gradually
widens and deepens to an impassable gulf.
We would not advocate unfeeling severity, or even the
infliction of a single pang uncalled for by the best ultimate
interests of the children corrected. Especially would we have
no chastisement inflicted capriciously, or in any other spirit
than love, tenderness, gentleness and yearning towards the
suffering offenders; even as God yearns over sinners when
he chastises them. If needed chastisement be judiciously
and thoroughly administered in early childhood, followed by
a steady course of government, it will seldom need repeti-
tion But this is not done at home, to the extent to justify
the universal banishment of corporal chastisement from
our schools. Some escape through the inadvertence, or
blindness, or imbecility of their parents ; while others pos-
sess that infelicitous pertinacity of spirit in evil doing, for
which nothing is an effectual antidote, but severe and
repeated doses of the birch.
23
186 MR WIKSLOWS LECTURE.
And surely, when we behold the Almighty bending over
the world with his burning rod, when we see the evil of sin
written as it were upon the very face of the angry skies,
when we read the awful penalties of the divine law, and
when withal we witness the desperate strength of human
frowardness, and hear God calling upon us to apply the
principles of his government to its early correction, we are
not left to doubt, that in the business of moral discipline
we have something more to do than to persuade, to flatter,
to coax, to hire children to do their duty. Leviathan is
not so tamed. Satan is not thus cast out ; he is only kept
good natured till he has lime to grow.
Let an axe early be laid at the root of sin. Let the fro-
wardness of children be thoroughly subdued. Let the re-
quisite punishment press so instantly and uniformly on trans-
gression, as effectually to convince them that the way of
transgressors is hard. Let this be done to the extent, and
only to the extent, of completely subjecting their wills ; and
this point gained, let it be firmly maintained. Let the hold
of their wills on transgression be thus broken, and their minds
rendered accessible to the motives of duty and love ; let
this be attended with wise counsel and followed by a steady
government, and they will not fail to walk in wisdom's
way. With such training, they will come forward to meet
the responsibilities and circumstances of their existence.
They will be prepared to justify God in all the rebukes,
chastisements and disappointments of the present world,
and in the everlasting penalties of his righteous law, in the
world to come. They will have learned that for their sins
they deserve them all. They will feel the value of mercy
and their need of it, and welcome with penitential grati-
tude the overtures of redeeming grace. They will be affec-
tionate, dutiful, faithful, patient of sufferings, grateful for
favors, afraid only to do wrong and bold only to do right ;
beloved by their teachers, ornaments to their families, bles-
INNOVATIONS IN EDUCATION. 1 87
sings to society ; their entire characters rising, expanding
and shaping to the high and holy government of God.
Let us beware then how we innovate upon those princi-
ples of moral government, which are inculcated in the Bible
and by the experience of past ages. The effect must inev-
itably be to loosen the hold of the divine government upon
the rising generation, to introduce licentious doctrines, to
undermine the foundations of religion, and ultimately to
bring forth upon our nation an army of infidels, radicals,
revolutionists, who will neither fear God nor regard man.
If we would avoid this, we must walk after the example of
our pious ancestors, whose blessings we inherit. We
MUST GIVE TO THE BiBLE SUPREME AUTHORITY BOTH IN
OUR FAMILIES AND SCHOOLS.
Nor is the power of the Bible to enlarge and ennoble, as
well as to govern the mind, unworthy of notice. The
human mind tends to expand to the greatness or contract
to the littleness of the objects of its contemplation and
pursuit ; and of all the sources of magnificent objects to
engage its attention, the Bible is transcendently the richest.
— The birth of creation, the formation of man in the divine
image, the temptation and fall, the descent and incarnation
of the Son of God, the stupendous sacrifice for sin, the
recovery of fallen man to lost righteousness, the kingdom
of redemption rising from the ruins of the fall, the continual
march of providence towards the final consummation, the
conflagration of the world, the great white throne before
which heaven and earth flee away, the judgment seat of
Christ, the everlasting destinies of the righteous and the
wicked ! — what objects vie with these, to expand and
energize the mind ! The revelations of modern astronomy,
amplifying stars to suns and worlds rolling in space with
lightning speed, and all presumed to move in stately
attendance around some distant central throne, bear but
humble analogy to the revelations of moral grandeur made
178 MR WINSLOW'S LECTURE,
in the Bible. Would you rouse the youthful mind to noble
thoughts and burning aspirations, pour into it these senti-
ments. Early teach it to transcend the bounds of time,
ascend into the regions of immortality, expatiate prospec-
tively in higher worlds, learn its alliance to superior orders
of intelligence and its solemn accountability at a righteous
tribunal. These lessons of instruction are from the exhaust-
less fountains of eternity. They will continue to flow as
from a well-spring of perennial life, when all the sources of
natural science shall be dried up. — When the stars shall
fall like autumnal leaves, and the heavens be rolled together
as a scroll, and the earth and the works therein shall be
burned up, they will still survive in the mind to enlighten
and bless it. If then we would secure to rising generations
the fairest promise of useful eminence in the present world,
and of everlasting glory in the world to come, let us do
ALL IN OUR POWER TO GIVE THE BIBLE SUPREME DQMINION
OVER THEIR MINDS.
LECTURE VII.
UNITING IN A SYSTEM OF EDUCATION,
MANUAL WITH MENTAL LABOR.
By BERIAH green.
The following lecture was prepared for the Institute, but circumstances
prevented its delivery during the session.
MANUAL AND MENTAL LABOR.
On the subject of uniting in a system of education man-
ual with mental labor, I am quite willing to offer a few
plain thoughts. The deep interest I may betray in the
matter, I am here invited to dwell upon, I hope will not
be too eagerly ascribed to my relation to an institution,
where such a system of discipline is maintained. For such
a feeling, I can give a better reason, than is to be found in
any station, I may be called to occupy. And that reason,
as it is connected with the object, which has brought me
to this spot, I shall venture lightly to touch upon.
By a round of efforts, which I need not here describe,
my health became too much impaired to allow me to per-
form the duties of the private student or public teacher.
The nervous system was sadly deranged. A silting posture,
long retained, produced sensations, which I know not how
to describe, which I found loo distressing to be quietly
endured. Something at my breast bade iiie get up and
bestir myself; or 1 must expect to be torn in pieces and
scattered to the winds. My eyes were large sharers in the
general trouble. They shrunk from a close and continuous
attention to the printed page. When suddenly called in a
clear and strong light, to pass from one object to anotlier,
I know not what strange illusions started up before them ;
192 MR GREEN'S LECTURE.
— illusions, now claiming to be flies, now small pieces of
torn gauze, and again, fragments of a floating cobweb.
And then my hand, while guiding a pen, soon grew weary
of the office. All this was disagreeable enough ; and to a
poor man, with a wife by his side and a babe in his arms,
afforded rather a dull prospect, whether of usefulness or
comfort. When dreaming, I sometimes seemed able to
read ; but my joys ended with my sleep. At length I
resolved on an experiment. I took a book into an unoc-
cupied shop ; and, placing it on a bench near at hand,
wrought a while at a lathe. Warmed by the effort, I
turned to my book, and was able to keep my eyes upon it
perhaps, a single minute. I passed from the book to the
lathe and from the lathe to the book, until I had read by
snatches, a considerable part of an octavo page of easy
Latin. I had now entered on what has proved to me, a
most interesting and important experiment. About the
same time I began by short tasks to try my strength in
public speaking. In both ways, I was gradually able to
increase my efforts ; when after a few months, to my great
joy, I found myself strong enough to study the term of
twenty minutes without pausing. I now took a pulpit to
occupy every Sabbath. Besides longer terms of exercise,
■day by day, for every twenty minutes' study, I spent fifteen
in muscular exertions. These exertions were almost uni-
formly made with the axe ; and with a good deal of life
and energy. I persevered in this course with a solicitude,
constancy, and force, amounting almost to scrupulosity and
obstinacy. In the midst of trials and apprehensions, I
gradually gained ground. I ventured by slight additions,
from time to time, to increase my terms of mental labor ;
till at length by a slow and painful process, I became what
I now claim to be, almost half a man !
Now, had I, on some happy method, from the first com-
bined manual with mental labor, I believe I should have
MANUAL AND MENTAL LABOR. 195
escaped the evils with which, year after year, I have had to
contend. The solicitude and strength I have been forced
to expend in keeping my head above water, it seems to
me, I might in that case have laid out for higher purposes.
May God forgive my sin in neglecting and abusing the
constitution He committed to my keeping ; and teach me
to make the most of the shattered remains of it, which I
am still intrusted with !
For one, t own I am against exposing the unpractised
student to the slough, into which so many of us, heedlessly
and unwarned, have plunged. Alas, how many have
already sunk to rise no more ! How many are now des-
perately struggling with the miry clay ! How very few will
ever get clear of the effects of the sad fall, they have expe-
rienced !
To unite manual with mental labor in a system of edu-
cation, ground and facilities for carrying on agricultural
and mechanical operations should be furnished. With one
hundred students, we ought to have a farm of at least one
hundred acres of cultivated land. This should be made to
contribute as directly and largely as possible, to the support
of the common table. A larger garden should not be en-
closed, than the wants of the kitchen may require. Gar-
dening as a general thing, is poor business for the student.
He may as well keep digging Greek or Hebrew roots, as to
crouch over a bed of onions. Away with a kind of exer-
cise, which hinders the free circulation of the blood ; —
which keeps one's head so near the surface of the ground,
as to make one faint and dizzy. Besides, the sale of garden
vegetables even near a city, costs too much time and pains-
taking, to be consistent with the interests of a public
school. — Land good for grass and Indian corn should be
had ; and to such crops, it should chiefly be devoted.
Potatoes should not be excluded, as not a k\v will be called
24
194 MR GREEN'S LECTURE.
for in the kitchen. But in such an establishment, they
can Iiardly be raised for the market to much advantage.
They are heavy, dirty, and must be speedily disposed of.
If you try to keep them through the winter, you must
submit to more labor and hazard in doing so, than is either
agreeable or useful. — A herd of cows, as large as may be,
should be kept. His need of nourishment, which brings
the student to the dining hall, they will promptly and
happily supply. They offer assistance in a form, which
may be turned to high account with very little expense or
trouble. — Broom corn may make a good crop for such an
institution. It may be wrought on the spot into a form
fit for the market to advantage ; especially, if skill be ac-
quired and a good reputation earned.
In making arrangements for mechanical operations, a
number of things may be indicated, which should be kept
constantly in mind.
1. All the hands should, if possible, be employed in
one kind of business. Arrangements, tools, and superin-
tendence may thus be provided for, at a small expense. A
reputation for skill and fidelity and enterprise may thus be
more easily obtained and widely extended.
2. A kind of business should be selected, which will
require for each workman but httle shop room.
3. The fabric which may be wrought, should be of sim-
ple structure. Thus, whatever art may be requisite to
carry on the operation may be easily and speedily acquired.
The mind too will be refreshed rather than fatigued, by
the thought necessary to keep the hands employed.
4. Work too should be chosen, which will give full and
vigorous play to the muscles.
5. The raw material should be cheap and abundant.
6. A ready, constant, and permanent market should be
at hand.
In some places flour barrels might well be made ; in
W
MANUAL AND MENTAL LABOR. 196
Others, turning, combined with making hat-blocks, or boot-
trees, or shoe-lasts, would be better. This matter in any
place where manual and mental labor are to be combined,
will demand close attention, much reflection, and careful
experiment.
Whatever in the field or at the bench may be attempted,
should in all respects be done in the best manner. Perfec-
tion should be aimed. at. Fidelity, energy, skill, and grace
should mark every operation. Thus only, can useful
action, a good reputation, and a strong hold on public
confidence be secured. Thus only, can the judgment and
the taste be improved. Thus only, can a keen relish for
agricultural or mechanical pursuits be acquired and cher-
ished. Thus only, can we find that high gratification in
our labors, which is essential to their best effect. What,
without such high aims, would any athletic sport become ?
Dull enough, most certainly. Thus engaged in, who could
expect to find in it a healthful, invigorating, refreshing exer-
cise ? None, surely. And in bringing our ingenuity and
strength to bear on some agricultural or mechanical
design, we may find gratifications, which the lazy or unen-
terprising never dream of. In the swing and gait of the
finished mower, I have seen more dignity and grace than
I could expect to find in the military or dancing academy.
And when he paused and turned his eye back upon the
wide and well-cut swath, what conscious exultation his
countenance betrayed.
A course of study consuming three or four years, is far
better adapted to the design of such institutions, as now
claim our attention, than the short terms usually spent at
the grammar school. The student must have time enough
to find his proper place in the somewhat complicated sys-
tem, to which he belongs. Some skill is requisite to enable
him happily to act his allotted part. This must be the
result of effort and experience. He ought to have oppor-
196 MR GREENS LECTURE.
tunity to form such habits, as are adapted to his sphere of
exertion.
It is very easy to see, that arrangements for manual
labor must add not a little to the expenses, requisite to
sustEiin any hterary institution. And yet, plain as this
matter is, it seems by many, who are free to speak on the
subject, to be strangely misunderstood. Should we other-
wise be reminded, as if notorious facts were referred to,
that experiment has shown the practicability and excellence
of manual labor schools to be at best very doubtful ? If
you venture to inquire on what ground and in what cir-
cumstances the experiment was made, you may be referred
to some establishment, where the public in mock enter-
prise have grudgingly laid out a few hundred dollars in
cash, together with a donation of an old, crazy wagon, two
worn-out ploughs, half a dozen felt hats, and a stock of
hemlock boards, at a mill somewhere in the country.
And then for a library ; ah, me ! a regular file of the
New London Gazette, four copies of the Gloucester Greek
Grammar, and the Contrast between Hopkinsianism and
Calvinism ! Experiment ! A handful of ovenwood to
propel a steamboat ! Let me assure you, gentlemen, this
is not so gross a caricature as you may think. Does
any one demand, what can manual labor schools need money
for ? Are they not self-supporting 1 Just as truly self-
supporting as the motion of a pendulum is self-originated.
For one, I own it puzzles me to gue.=s what some philoso-
phers can mean, when they gravely propose such inquiries.
Why, dear doctor, can you buy land, and build workshops,
and procure tools without money ? The financier of the
Oneida Institute — a gentleman, extensively and intimately
acquainted with business doing, — assured me, that in that
institution, to furnish ground and facilities for one hundred
students to engage in manual labor must require at least
tenthousand dollars. This sum must of course be added to
MANUAL AND MENTAL LABOR. 197
the amount, for which the literary and scientific advantages,
that may be offered, are naturally procured. — Shew us a
board of trustees ; intelligent, benevolent, enterprising men,
who with good heart and hope, shall enlist in the design of
building up a manual labor institution, where an education,
truly liberal, may be secured. Put one hundred thousand
dollars into their hands. Let them employ instructers and
agents who are intimately acquainted with the system on
which they are to act, and truly devoted to it. Now,
ground is furnished for a fair experiment. Substantial
results may now confidently be expected. Has anything
like this been attempted ? Where ?
It is a great advantage, offered by manual labor schools,
that they enahh the student to defray in 'part the expenses of
his education. The money which he needs, he must earn
or take as a donation. It makes in the long run little
difference with the public, whether he receives it from the
hand of a father or from the managers of some charitable
endowment. In either case, he lives on the beneficence of
others. This thought never yet has reached the heart of
the creature, who struts superciliously along by his fellow
students, who are sustained by public kindness. Could he
be brought to feel what a helpless thing he is, we should
see no more of his turkey plumes. So far as personal dig-
nity and worth are concerned, what odds can it make,
whether he is dandled on the lap of his mother or of some
other equally good woman ? And here, I must be per-
mitted to say, that I have often wondered at the singular
disinterestedness of their benevolence, whose every nerve
is moved with fear, that the charity student will somehow
be hurt by the aid he obtains from foreign sources in ac-
quiring an education, while they lavish six times the amount
he humbly asks for, on their own sons without the least
dread or apprehension. As they are above all suspicion of
hypocrisy, it must be, I suppose, because they love him
198 MR GREENS LECTURE.
better. I hope, they will not be offended, if I modestly
suggest, that charity begins at home ! Whatever the stu-
dent contributes towards his own support goes to diminish
public burdens, which cannot but be fe't somewhere. If
one hundred young men, in a course of liberal study, earn
in a single year, apart from their vacations, three thou-
sand dollars, without arithmetic we may see, that three
thousand dollars less will be demanded of their natural or
adopted guardians. Why then should not this be reckoned
a public benefit? Is not that amount thus contributed to
the cause of liberal education ?
I shall not be understood to say, that at manual labor
schools, as they are now maintained in this country, the
student ought to be expected to defray, by his personal
exertions, the expenses of his education. The public most
certainly have no right to look for such results, till these
schools are far more liberally endowed. Till then, demands,
however reluctantly, must be urged upon it to assist in
sustaining the establishment, to which he may belong.
And why complaints should be made, that, like students
in other institutions, he receives assistance from an educa-
tion society, is not easy to perceive. He earns something ;
he needs more. Why should his efforts to help himself,
hinder others from assisting him ? Will the Christian pub-
lic offer a premium for idleness ?
That muscular exercise must be taken by the student,
who would enjoy good health, few will deny or question.
This almost every body fully believes and strongly asserts.
How some men contrive to keep their faith alive without
works, I must leave for them to explain.
It seems to have been doubted by some, who have of
late in an imposing form and through a highly respectable
medium impressed their views upon the public mind, whether
the combination of manual with mental labor in a system
of education, can be made conducive to the maintenance
MANUAL AND MENTAL LABOR. 199
and preservation of health. The doctrine from which
such doubts proceed may be thus presented. The health-
ful tendency of any exercise depends on its voluntariness.
Required, it becomes a " tasJc," and therefore irksome.
It can no longer exhilarate, refresh, and invigorate. It must
disgust, fatigue, and depress. It cannot but be worse than
useless. In this doctrine, however plausible and current
it may be, there lurks an error, which cannot but be fatal
to its permanent authority and influence. It will not be
pretended, I suppose, that the voluntariness of any effort
depends upon the mode, in which the muscles may be exer-
cised. A movement, I take it, may be truly voluntary
without the use of the quoit, the ball-club, the fishing-pole,
or any such means of bodily exertion. We shall not be re-
quired, I presume, to believe, that any exercise loses its
voluntariness by being preceded or followed by any other
exercise. The solution of a problem in mathematics might
immediately precede, and a rhetorical effort directly follow
the running, leaping, or wrestling, in which I might engage,
or these things or any other such things might follow each
other in any other order of succession or connexion, and
yet everything be fully voluntary. I suppose, moreover,
that no exercise necessarily loses its voluntariness by becom-
ing habitual. Now manual labor, in a literary institution,
consists in the habitual exercise of the muscles in different
modes, in a fixed and known connexion with various other
exercises, bodily and mental. Is there anything in this,
adverse to the freedom of the will ? But the trouble is, I
am told, that all this is required of the student. There is
nothing in the exercise itself, it may be, from which the
mind recoils. In itself, it may be attractive and delightful.
But the moment you give it the quality, and mark it with
the character of duty, you make it repulsive and injurious !
Voluntariness is inconsistent with obligation, from whatever
source it may proceed and however useful may be its
200 MR GREENS LECTURE.
tendencies ! Will it be affirmed then, that no action can be
voluntary and delightful, which is not spontaneous, — which
is not produced by impulses from within, without any refer-
ence to influences from without ? I hope we shall not be
expected to receive such a dogma. If so, we must deny,
that love to God or love to men can be a voluntary exercise ;
for alas ! we are bound by obligations strong as the arm,
and sacred as the authority of Jehovah, warmly to cherish
and habitually to maintain this pure and sublime affection.
According to this doctrine, the law of God must be a dread
incubus on the human soul, to prevent by downright suffo-
cation any voluntary exercise, worthy of the relations we
sustain and the prospects before us ! But what if my
views and feelings are accordant with the designs and
requisitions of my Creator and Redeemer ? Must I not
welcome to my inmost heart the obligations, He may place
me under ? Shall I not run in the way of His commands
with alacrity and delight ? Will required action, became
required, become a task, hateful, wearisome, and exhaust-
ing ? Nay ; I shall find in obedience a well-spring of
life — eternal hfe. Action most certainly may be the direct
result of obedience to law ; and yet be in the best sense of
the word voluntary ; be highly refreshing, deeply delight-
ful, greatly invigorating. Otherwise, what a weariness
would our sainted brethren find in the employments of the
upper world ; for there we are assured, on divine authority,
the servants of the Saviour serve him.
And here, I would ask, what does Christian education
propose to do for him who seeks its advantages and comes
under its influences ? It proposes to train him up to be in
some useful station, a benefactor to mankind. Whatever
may be its methods, it aims, if true to its profession, to
bring all his powers and resources into direct and perman-
ent subserviency to this commanding object. This object,
then, in its substantial worth and subduing loveliness, must
MANUAL AND MENTAL LABOR. 201
be set clearly and fully before him. His heart must be
fastened on it, his thoughts must be engrossed with it. He
must be taught to pursue it with irrepressible desires and
invincible endeavors. As a leading element, then, in the
discipline to which he may be subjected, arrangements
should be made and influences exerted, to make every
righteous obligation grateful to his taste and feelings. He
should be brought to welcome to his heart the claims,
which duty urges upon every department of his nature.
In his present sphere of action, he should be taught to
attempt what he is expected to do amidst the scenes of
future life ; to maJce himself as useful as he can. Now
what methods shall we adopt to work into his forming
character such lessons of instruction ? Shall we encourage
him to regard every effort, which is required in a course of
education, as an odious task, to be reluctantly attempted
and heavily performed ? Shall we encourage him to give up
one quarter or one third of his waking hours to spontane-
ous action, regardless of rules and reckless of results ; — a
mere insect in the sunbeam or a fish on the water's surface ?
Ay, and to regard these, as the only hours in which he truly
lives ! lives free from the vexation and annoyance of tasks !
And when he leaves us, and enters upon the scenes of active
life, what station will he be fit for ?
It is not true, that manual labor, performed from a " sense
of duty," naturally fails to refresh and invigorate. The
axe is often wielded, the saw is often plied at the ap-
pointed hour of effort, with eagerness and joy. Every
nerve quivers with grateful feeling. The whole frame is
strung anew for vigorous and delightful toil. A fresh im-
pulse is given to every movement, indicative of repaired
strength and renewed health. In confirmation of such
statements, I might confidently appeal to the experience of
some of the ablest scholars in the nation. We have re-
duced to practice, they would say, the doctrine, which by
25
'i02 Mil GREEN'S LECTURE.
the symbol of washing their feet, the Saviour long ago im-
pressed on his disciples. Happy have we been in giving
play to our muscles in performing the most menial acts of
usefulness.
Another th'ng in this connexion, it may not be amiss to
remind you of. That spontaneous action, of which so
much is said in certain quarters, is apt to lead to strange re-
sults. Breaking windows, cutting bell-ropes, burning out-
houses, and stoning freshmen and townsmen; — O how
brave and learned ; how dignified and delightful ! The
feats of the wild ass's colt cannot be more voluntary, than
the exploits of many of our under-graduates, who doubt-
less have a very polite dread of those tasks, which manual
labor involves. What a pity that these very honorable
young men — the hope and the glory of their country —
could not be persuaded to pay the damages, which their
spontaneous action creates ! For one, I never think with-
out indignation and disgust, of the money, which according
to college laws, their vulgar villany wrung from my lean
pockets. O could I see such privileged criminals fairly in
the penitentiary ! I would bid them welcome to the anvil,
the stone-hammer, and their bread and water. Here they
might learn to turn their muscles to a good account.
The influence of manual labor in promoting good order
in a public school is powerful and manifest. It would be
ingratitude in me to pass by this point, unnoticed. I know
not when, in the institution with which I am connected,
we have had occasion to blot a student's bill with a charge
for mischief done by himself or by his companions. Give
the scholar his hands full of " tasJcs,^' and you may es-
cape the effects of his '* voluntary" exercise.
But here our progress is arrested by the maxim, system-
aiid manual labor is apt to cripple genius. This idea,
whatever may be thought of its sublimity, is, I am sure,
obscure enough. For one, I own, I have been sadly
MANUAL AND MENTAL LABOR. 203
puzzled to find out what that thing can be, which often
bears the naine of genius. When an under-graduate in
college, I well remember, we had young men among us,
who were fond enorgh of spontaneous exertions. They
seemed to look with lofty scorn on rules and regulations.
They had the courage to follow their own inclinations, what-
ever duty might require. They made wretched scholars ;
but then, it was said, they were men of genius. Would
they come down to the drudgery of study, no tongue
could tell what attainments they might make ! Even now
I seem to see the tall form of one of these superior beings,
as he stalks with careless air along the well-trod college
path. I pause to gaze upon him. The old inquiries, often
put but never solved, return to my embarrassed mind :
Pray, what canst thou be ? They say, thou art a genius.
What may be thy thoughts, designs, emotions? That
thou art lazy and a tnischief-doer, I know well enough.
What may lie concealed within thy secret purpose? — ah,
there 's the mystery ! Now, I dare not affirm, that manual
labor authoritatively imposed, and duly performed, might
not cripple such a genius.
On what ground it can be asserted, that the rules and
methods of education are ill- adapted to the happy devel-
opement of ihe most powerful genius, I have yet to learn.
No sober man, I imagine, will pretend, that genius consists
in mind, disciplined, rich, mature, without the influence of
cultivation. The material on which in any case, education
employs itself, is to be found in the susceptibilities, powers,
resources of the human constitution. The man who is
entrusted with a larger amount of these endowments than
falls to the lot of his fellows generally, may, I suppose, be
regarded as gifted with genius. Now, is not this the very
subject, on which education may exert itself with the
greatest advantage and the happiest efl'ect ? No part of
systematic discipline, whether it may more directly affect
the muscles or the mind, should here be overlooked.
204 MR GREEN'S LECTURE. '<
Whatever goes to develope, to strengthen, to enrich, may
with good heart and high hope, be employed. Superior
size and strength and spirit are no good reason, surely, why
a horse should not be broken to the harness or driven on
the public road.
It is the strong tendency of uniting manual with men-
tal labor, to break the cord which separates the members
of the same family into jealous or hostile casts. It is, I fear,
a pretty common feeling, that those who are devoted to
books, are indolent and haughty. Their gloves and ruffles
are regarded with a jealous eye. Their fine coats and
white hands, their lofty air and measured gait are no
credit to them with the brown, hardy, rugged sons of toil.
They think that the man of letters '• feels above them."
Hence, he often finds it hard to win his way to their sym-
pathies, affection, and confidence. His arguments, appeals,
entreaties, they receive with doubt and hesitation. They
are afraid to trust him. When he seeks exercise, they see
him mount iiis horse, or pitch his quoit, or point his fowling
piece. He keeps aloof from the scenes of homely toil,
where they are the busy actors. He finds this requisite,
they think, in order to maintain the standing of a scholar
and a gentleman. It is a pity that any occasion should be
given for the prevalence of such a sentiment. How can
the occasion be removed ? By giving to " working-men"
substantia] proof, that as ivorkivg-men we regard them with
fraternal feelings. And this may best be done by seeking
renewed strength and reanimated spirits in the labors to
which they are devoted. When they meet the student in
the field or the workshop, the tools he wields become a me-
dium of familiar intercourse and heartfelt sympathy. If he
has skill and energy, he immediately rises in their esteem
and confidence. They regard him as a brother, and feel
honored by his learning and his station. He has a hold
upon them in all respects, which the stately scholar, who
stands aloof from their labors, can never command.
MANUAL AND MENTAL LABOR. 206
It is a strong recommendation of the system of education,
which unites manual with mental labor, that it affords pecu-
liar facilities to those who come under its influence, to in-
crease their moral worth. This, of course, depends on our
skill, fidelity, and activity in useful action. The system just
described greatly enlarges the field, and multiplies the
occasions, of useful effort. Just in proportion as these
occasions are improved, and this field is occupied, our moral
worth must be increased — shall we be better and happier
subjects of the universal King. And I cannot help observ-
ing, that here a school is opened, in which the spirit and
habits of true politeness may most readily and certainly be
acquired. In what, I pray you, can this consist ? Not
surely in artificial smiles and phrases and gestures, how-
ever elegant and exquisite. Must it not consist in benevo-
lent feeling expressed in acts of kindness ? And this
especially in the private walks and minor concerns of life ?
And is not he truly polite, who, with undissembled good
nature, and with whatever skill and grace he can, contributes
in every department of human interest to which he has
access, to the happiness of his fellow creatures? What
would you say, in this respect, of the attitude of the
Saviour, when he washed his disciples' feet? Let the
student learn to breathe his spirit, and imitate his example,
— eagerly and joyfully to welcome every opportunity of
doing good, publicly or privately, with his hands as well as
with his tongue, in whatever walk of life, and by whatever
office, courtly or menial, and he will not need a Chesterfield
at his elbow, to teach him politeness. What parent, worthy
of the name, would not re^rard it as a high privilege to !);»
permitted to place his child under a discipline where even
in his relaxation, he may give full and vigorous play to the
best feelings of his nature — nay, to the holiest sentiments
of Christian piety; — where, as well in his minor move-
ments as in his main course, he may be increasing those
imperishable treasures, which are counted wealth in heaven?
206 MR GREENS LECTURE.
Give my child this discipline^ and I will join with him in
blessing you, ns his distinguished benefactor.
The hints I have thrown out thus freely, might be easily
and greatly expanded. But I supposed, that hardly need
be done in this discourse, before such an audience. My
own convictions, that the system, which for a few moments
has occupied your thoughts, is fully practicable and highly
excellent, are almost every day becoming more deep and
fixed and effective. " My heart's desire and prayer to
God is" that its virtue may be tested by fair experiment.
1 am certain, that the efforts which have been made do not
deserve that name. And I marvel much, that men of large
vic.vs and liberal feehngs should, on account of the faint
endeavors which have been made, so eagerly grasp at the
conclusion, that the whole design is visionary. I have
sometiaies been almost driven to the thought, that they were
somehow interested in decaying an object, they were so
uncandid in judging of. An old college, in successful
operation, now and then, how frequently I need not say,
contrives to make the public feel, that it needs additional
endowments to tiie amount of forty, fifty, or a hundred
thousand dollors. But a manual labor institution, requiring
much greater expenses, must move along in its allotted
course with dignity and grace, ay, and glory too, with such
endowments as might be expected from a jealous, peevish,
step-mother — or be pronounced a failure ! Charity must
be stretched on the rack, to the utter dislocation of her
frame, before she can be forced to pronounce this candid !
Now it seems to me, that every friend of virtue and of
learning in the land, may justly be expected to lend what-
ever of influence and aid he can, to give the manual labor
system a fair and full trial. The peculiar blessings with
which it may be pregnant, can be brought within the reach
of every scholar. Let bro;id and substantial ground be
furnished, and let the experiment proceed ! May Heaven
crown it with the best results !
LECTURE VIII.
THE HISTORY AND USES
OF
CHEMISTRY.
Bt C. T. JACKSON, M. D.
HISTORY AND USES OF CHEMISTRY.
Chemistry is the science which explains all those com-
binations and changes of matter which take place among
particles too minute to be observed by our sight. When a
considerable number of atoms aggregate, they become sen-
sible to our vision, and their movements are attended by
phenomena more or less remarkable, dependent on the
nature of the changes effected, and the intensity of their
combining force. The object of this lecture is to explain
some of the numerous uses of chemistry.
It may be considered under several distinct heads. 1
shall first speak of it as an art contributing to our physi-
cal wants ; secondly, as a branch of Philosophy, explaining
the laws of natural phenomena and leading us to under-
stand more of the beauty and perfection of the handi-
works of God. The advantages to be derived from the
study are immense and infinitely various ; I shall however
only venture to suggest a few of the more obvious reasons
why it should be generally cultivated.
First : the knowledge in itself is of great value to us in our
ordinary avocations. Chemical knowledge is useful to every
man, whatever may be his calling, as there is not a day that
he may not have occasion for a practical application of this
science, if not to supply his bodily wants, at least, as an in-
telligent being, to explain to him some wonderful process
26
210 I)R C. T JACKSON'S LECTURE.
that takes place before his eyes. The application of this
science to the arts is everywhere shown by thousands of
manufactures which furnish supplies for our necessities and
comforts. The arts of glass making, bleaching, dyeing,
soap making, calico printing, and porcelain making in all its
branches from the rude Babylonian brick to the finished
Dresden, Sevres and China ware, are the direct results of
chemical science. Working of metals of all sorts, in the sur-
est and most economical manner, from their first extraction
out of the earth until they receive their ultimate finish in the
most delicate forms ; the art of making an infinite variety
of alloys, salts and colors, &c., all are dependent upon our
knowledge of chemistry. The invention and manufacture
of gunpowder which has, as it were, stayed the inroads of
barbarians and forever established the superiority of science
over rude physical force, — the tremendous power of steam,
which is now made to carry us by land or water, to work
our factories, and is ready to take the place of gunpowder in
defending our liberties from aggression — these are some of
the results of chemical science. The arts all owe much to
this science and many of them are its immediate offspring.
Medicine is also under infinite obhgations to chemistry,
not only for the knowledge it gives us of the composition
of every fluid and solid, of animal, vegetable and mineral
bodies, but more immediately in the exhaustless supply of
new, powerful, and efficient remedies it furnishes in their
purest and most concentrated state. Almost every valuable
medicinal plant has been forced to give up its secret
principles on which its efficacy depended. Cinchona
bark is now rarely given in its crude bulky state, but
furnishes forth its proximate principles, which we can
use to greater advantage, by knowing exactly their amount
and their peculiar properties. Opium, instead of being
now considered a simple substance, is found to contain
twelve different principles, having various medicinal proper-
lies adapted to some exigency of the system. It would
.1 ON CHEMISTRY. 211
require a course ol lectures for years, to give a complete
history of the numerous applications of chemistry to the
arts and to medicine. I therefore forbear making any
attempt to enter into details, and I refer you to the admir-
able work of Dumas on Chemistry applied to the arts, and
other chemical authors.
Let us take a cursory view of the origin and of the
history of this noble science, and see how it origin-
ated in ancient times and gradually struggled through
the opposing powers of ignorance, bigotry, and cupidity
to its present dignity and importance. The mytholog-
ical history of Alchemy is very entertaining ; but we
have time only to quote the opinion of Zosimus the Pan-
opolite, who declares that the art of making gold and silver
is not a human invention, but was communicated to man-
kind by angels or demons. These angels, he says, fell in love
with women, and were induced by their charms to abandon
heaven altogether, and to take up their abode upon earth.
Among other pieces of information which these spiritual
beings communicated to their paramours, was the sublime
art of chemistry, or the fabrication of gold and silver.
Europe was first indebted to the Arabians for the
introduction of a knowledge of chemistry. It was con-
fined by them principally to the extraction of metals from
the earth and to the preparation of medicines ; they called
it Alchemy. The Saracen conquerors brought with them
their physicians, who cultivated this science and introduced
a knowledge of it into Spain. It will appear however, that
the Egyptians were not wholly ignorant of chemical arts,
although most of their writings were lost to the world by
the burning of the Alexandrian Library ; yet it is evident,
from many relics found with the embalmed bodies of their
princes, that they knew how to manufacture various colored
glasses and frits, some of which are seen upon mummies
brouffht from the catacombs of Thebes and Memphis, beads
colored of a deep blue by oxide of cobalt, and ol a fine
\.,
212 DR C. T. JACKSON'S LECTURE.
green by oxide of copper. This proves that they knew
how to make glass, and were acquainted with the proper-
ties of the metallic oxides. The rich and permanent colors
of their pigments used in painting sarcophagi, and inscrib-
ing hieroglyphic mementos, shew that they were acquaint-
ed with the art of preparing many mineral colors, which
fully equal those made in modern times. They were also
doubtless acquainted with the methods of working metallic
ores, such as gold, silver, copper, tin, lead and perhaps iron,
and the manufacture of steel ; for without the latter sub-
stance they could never have cut figures in hard stone and
sculptured statues in porphyry. The magic wrought by
the Egyptians in their mysteries is supposed to have been
in a great measure dependent upon their knowledge of the
operation of chemical preparations ; indeed, we cannot con-
ceive of their being able to effect their wonderful deceptions
without this knowledge. Yet strange as it may appear, no
mention is made of Egyptian chemistry by Aristotle or
other Greek writers who visited that country with Alexander
the Great.
The Greeks do not appear to have known much
of this science, although they made great progress in other
branches of natural philosophy and natural history. Che-
mistry, introduced into Spain, by degrees spread itself over
the continents of Europe and Asia. It soon became the
object of great curiosity. The celebrated Academy of
Bagdad, founded by the liberality of the powerful Arabian
Caliph Almanzor, about the middle of the eighth century,
extended its fame over all Europe, and drew thousands of
professors and students from every quarter of the world.
Public hospitals and laboratories were established to facili-
tate a knowledge of diseases, and to make students ac-
quainted with the method of preparing medicines. In the
thirteenth century, the Caliph Mostanser re-established the
Academy, which had fallen into decay, and gave liberal sala-
ries to the professors. Almamon and his successors contin-
ON CHEMISTRY. 213
ued their liberal patronage to the Academy, and encouraged
every department of human learning. The most distin-
guished chemical writers among the Arabians were Geber
and Avicenna, whose works have been preserved and trans-
lated into Latin : they possessed much knowledge of the
action of bodies upon each other, and discovered many
substances valuable to the arts. The adepts did not con-
fine themselves to the study of chemistry as applied to
medicine and the metallurgic arts. In the middle ages
they endeavored to sjiiritualize and mystify their science,
and their art soon sunk into the mere exorcism of demons
who were supposed to preside over the various forms of
matter. In their wild enthusiasm, they even dreamed of
a talismanic substance, whose magic touch was to convert
everything into gold, and an elixir of life capable of renew-
ing youth, and of conferring everlasting life upon those who
were possessed of the secret. Cupidity next ruled the field,
and there were persons base enough to impose on their
fellow-men and pretend that they were absolutely in pos-
session of the philosopher'' s stone and the elixir of life.
Impositions to a most incredible extent were practised
upon the credulous and money was extorted by flattering
promises of this important secret.
Alchemy became soon degraded by its abuse, and its name
a reproach to those professing it. There were however, hon-
est men deeply engaged in this science, whose patient labors
under the most cruel and bigoted persecutions cannot be too
highly commended. Some of these, while laboring in search
of the 'philosopher^ s stone, discovered substances far more
valuable to humanity than all that could have been effected
had they found the golden talisman or even the elixir of life.
Sulphuric acid (or oil of vitriol), Muriatic acid, Nitric acid
(or aqua-fortis). Gunpowder, Prussian blue, porcelain, and
many of the salts and metals, were discovered by the
Alchemists, while engaged in search of an imaginary sub-
stance, which, if discovered, would have been far from pro-
214 DR C. T. JACKSON S LECTURE.
ducing the happy results anticipated by these deluded men.
Their researches served to keep science alive and formed
the basis upon which the splendid fabric of modern chemis-
try has been elevated.
Chemistry was next studied in Germany, France and
England. Paracelsus in 1526, by his wild enthusisism,
attracted great attention to chemical medicines, and
caused the study to be universally pursued in all the
medical schools and universities of Europe. He aided
the cause of chemistry by making it an indispensable study
to all medical practitioners, although he was himself an
arrogant boaster and prince of quacks. Towards the close
of the seventeenth century chemistry became generally stud-
ied, and the labors of Glauber, Geoffroy and Lemery greatly
augmented the number of new compounds ; and they gave
to the world the best methods, then known, of preparing
various acids and chemical salts. It was not until after
the writings of Lord Bacon appeared, that any attempt was
made to generalize the facts then known in chemistry.
This great philosopher directed the human mind to seek
into the causes of things, and the phenomena of chemistry
were then soon reduced to order, and a. general theory
attempted. John Beecher, a German, was the first to begin
this difficult labor. But we must look to comparatively
modern times for the most brilliant discoveries, to which the
great chemists of Europe were led by experiment and phi-
losophical inductions. Black, Cavendish and Priestley first
laid the foundations of pneumatic chemistry. The first,
discovered carbonic acid, (or the fixed air in limestone,)
and made invaluable researches respecting latent heat.
Cavendish made valuable researches, and published a me-
moir upon carbonic acid and hydrogen gases. Priestley
discovered oxygen gas and ascertained the composition of
atmospheric air. Lavoisier and his associates in France
discovered that water was a compound of the two elements
oxygen and hydrogen, which he not only separated by
analysis, but also recombined so as to again produce water,
ON CHEMISTRY. 215
thus, rendering by synthesis, the most satisfactory proof
of the true composition of this liquid. He also carried
out the researches of Priestley on the composition of atmos.
pheric air, and by the most delicate process established its
exact proportions of oxygen, nitrogen and carbonic acid.
He discovered the true nature and composition of metallic
oxides and of several acids, investigated all the curious
phenomena of fermentation and shewed the nature of all
the changes which took place. The greatest benefit this
philosopher conferred upon science, was a reform of chemi-
cal nomenclature, which rendered it easy for chemists to
understand each other, and to express clearly their views.
Lavoisier lost his head upon the scaffold under the tyranny
of Robespierre, ere his labors were complete, and thus the
scientific world was deprived of one its most brilliant lumi-
naries. The theory taught by this chemist was, that oxygen
was the cause of acidity in all acids ; hence he gave it the
name it now universally bears which signifies to produce an
acid. Modern researches have shewn that this generaliza-
tion is not always true, and many acids are known, which
do not contain an atom of oxygen, but that hydrogen acts
the part of an acidifier when combined with chlorine,
iodine, bromine, fluorine, cyanogen, &-c., which acids
are designated by the name hydracids. In Sweden*
Bergman and Scheele extended the bounds of science
beyond its former limits, to an unparalleled extent. They
brought the art of working metallic ores to a high state of
perfection ; made analyses of numerous mineral and vege-
table substances, and improved every manufacture depend-
ent on chemical operations. BerthoUet in France produced
his celebrated work on chemical affinity, his Statique Chim-
ique, and published his researches on the art of dyeing,
which reduced to scientific processes, the rude operations of
the dye-house. During the French revolution, the genius
and patriotic exertions of BerthoUet and his associate Monge
216 DR C. T. JACKSONS LECTURE.
saved the nation from destruction. France was at that
time hemmed in by an immense army of Austrians, Prus-
sians and French emigrants, who attacked lier by land,
while the British fleets surrounded her sea coast, and thus
shut her out from all communication with other nations.
Thus France was thrown at once on her own resources.
She had been in the habit of importing her supplies of
saltpetre, iron and many other necessary implements of war :
these supplies were suddenly withdrawn ; and it was ex-
pected that France, thus deprived of all her resources,
would be obliged to submit to any terms imposed upon
her by her enemies. At this time she summoned her men
of science to her assistance, and the call was speedily an-
swered. Berthollet and Monge informed the government
that the soil of France contained within its bosom all that
was necessary for her defence. They traversed France in
all directions, taught the people how to extract nitre from
the earth under and around old buildings, and directed
them to prepare pure saltpetre. Iron mines were discover-
ed and explored by the skill of these eminent chemists
where they were before unknown. Gunpowder works
and forges arose as if by magic, in every part of France,
and abundant supplies for her armies were provided.
Thus chemistry saved the French nation from destruction.
The discovery of a simple process for obtaining nitre
from the earth, not only prevented France from being
overrun by foreign troops, but also aided our own country
in resisting successfully the oppression of the British, —
for while we were prevented from obtaining foreign supplies
by her naval power, the French process enabled us to ex-
tract as much of this salt as we required, from our own
soil. Thus Berthollet like Lafayette deserves the gratitude
of the two worlds.
Chaptal taught the method of obtaining an abundant sup-
ply of sugar from the common beet, a manufacture of great
ON CHEMISTRY. 217
importance, when the ports of France were blockaded by
British squadrons, and foreign supplies were cut off.
Fourcroy, although he made few discoveries himself, gave
popular courses of lectures, and interested every one in this
science, so that a knowledge of it, soon became a necessary,
and even/asAzowa6Ze accomplishment at Paris.
In modern times we have more remarkable discoveries,
and chemistry has become so accurate in its processes that it
may almost be reckoned an exact science. In England, the
researches of Dalton gave the first clue to a theory of definite
proportions, and atomic combinations, a theory, whose truth
is now generally acknowledged by all chemists. Dalton
first endeavored to represent these combinations, by symbols
indicative of the nature and number of the combining ele-
ments. In this theory, hydrogen in taken for unity, and
all other elements are calculated according to their respec-
tive weights, and combining proportions. His theory and
numbers are recommended from their simplicity. This
doctrine is prevalent in Great Britain, and generally studied
in our own country. On the European continent however*
the theory of the Swedish chemist Berzelius, is universally
taught, in which oxygen is taken as the unit. There are
many reasons for this preference, principally founded on the
great number of combinations into which oxygen enters.
I should not pass over in silence the brilliant discoveries
of Davy, one of the most illustrious chemists who ever ex-
isted. His discovery of the metallic bases of the alkalies and
earths gave a new impulse to chemical science, and gained
immortal honor for him, and the land that gave him birth,
Davy was a poor boy, brought up in Cornwall, where he
served an apprenticeship to a village apothecary. His at-
tention was accidentally called to observe chemical phe-
nomena, when the spark of scientific curiosity was kindled,
which, by degrees, grew up to a noble enthusiasm and
ardent love of knowledge. Davy in secret pursued his
27
218 DR C. T. JACKSON'S LECTURE.
chemical inquiries and experiments in the garret of the
shop, and more than once, while learning in the severe
school of experience, endangered the roof of the building
in which he was experimenting. He was often reproached
and corrected for his negligence in the shop, and for putting
the building in jeopardy. His ardor was in no wise damped
by reproof, and his fame spread through the village,
when Dr Beddoes, a distinguished physician, who at that
time was in search of a chemist to manage his pneumatic
institution, passed through the town. He became ac-
quainted with Davy, and instantly agreed with him to go
Bristol, and take charge of the establishment. This was
the first notice taken of Davy. With Dr Beddoes he con-
j tinued to experiment, and discovered the celebrated nitrous
oxide, or exhilarating gas. Subsequently, he came to Lon-
don, and was appointed to lecture at the Royal Institution,
where he always afterwards continued, and made his most
remarkable discoveries. The production of a metallic glo-
bule from a piece of potash, by the galvanic battery of the
Institution, was a signal for the reduction of all the other
alkalies and earths, which were, by Davy and other chemists
on the continent, rapidly compelled to give up their metal-
lic matter. They were all found to consist of metallic
bases combined with oxygen ; and the truth of analysis was
confirmed by synthesis, as the metal, when combined with
oxygen, was found to produce a substance identical with
that submitted to analysis. Gay Lussac, Thenard, Dumas
and Chevreul, chemists now living in France, have done
much for the progress of chemical science. Their labors
are too varied and numerous to mention here.
In Germany, Klaproth gave the most elaborate essays on
chemical analysis, remarkable for their great simplicity and
clearness. He analysed a great number of minerals and dis-
covered several metallic substances. We have now living
another remarkable chemist in Prussia, Rose of Berlin, whose
ON CHEMISTRY. 219
work on chemical analysis should be in every laboratory.*
Professor Berzelius, of Sweden, is another of those bril-
liant luminaries of the North, whose great discoveries
and elaborate works on chemical science, have justly
entitled him to rank as the father of modern chemistry.
This distinguished chemist, who is still hving, and ardently
engaged in extending the bounds of science, is remarkable
for his accuracy and sagacity in chemical analysis ; and his
great work on chemistry, is a monument of scientific
research which will immortalize its author. To Berzelius
we owe the invention of atomic, chemical and mineralog-
ical formulas, by which the composition of a substance
may be expressed in a short and comprehensive manner,
by a few symbols derived from the initial letters of the
names of the elements composing them. He has also
done more than any other chemist, towards the construc-
tion of the atomic theory, by a long series of accurate
analytic researches, into the exact proportional composi-
tion of inorganic substances. He has also given us the
most exact methods of analyzing organic substances, and
has himself made an immense number of careful analyses,
of animal and vegetable matter.
I have now taken a rapid survey of the history of chemis-
try ; enough I hope has been said to prove that the science
has been advancing, and that its progress has been rapidly
accelerating in modern times. It is for you, instructers of
youth, to say, whether it shall proceed in this country, where
we have, it is true, made a beginning, which promises well,
but where we have to struggle by our own individual exer-
tions, without the aid or patronage of government. It is
for instructers to decide, whether or not the study of chem-
istry shall form a part of the education of their pupils.
If the attempt be fairly made, and young persons are taught
this science, the time will soon arrive, when it will be no
• The French translation, 2 vols. 8vo.
220 DR C. T. JACKSON'S LECTURE.
longer necessary to send to Europe for information of a
chemical nature ; nor shall we suffer practical quacks and
charletans to manage the laboratories of our manufactories,
work our mines and manufacture our medicines. That
such things have been, and are often done, is notorious.
Empirics arrive among us, and sell their boasted nostrums
and recipes for large sums of money, when, if we had suffi-
cient knowledge of chemistry, we should not only be able to
discover for ourselves, what we were desirous of knowing,
if the pretended nostrums were really of any value or not,
but should also often be able to detect pretensions to dis-
coveries which are old, and which have stood on the book
shelves of our libraries unread, for want of elementary
knowledge of the terms of science. When therefore we
see the great importance of a knowledge of this science in
the community, it is the duty of instructors to teach its
principles to their pupils, who, as they enter active life, will
diffuse the knowledge over the country from one ex-
treme to the other.
Chemistry teaches us the laws which regulate and pro-
duce the various combinations of matter in the inorganic
world, and demonstrates to us the sources from whence the
materials composing the various tribes of plants and ani-
mals were derived. It proves, that all organized beings are
composed of elements, drawn directly or indirectly from
the mineral kingdom, and that they exist in animals and
vegetables, combined and arranged by peculiar laws, which
are called laws of vital combination. Many of these laws
are analogous to the ordinary laws of chemical combination ;
others appear to be directly opposed to them. The modi-
fying power of vitality is here the cause of these combina-
tions, opposed to chemical affinity, as exerted under
ordinary circumstances. The laws of vital arrange-
ment belong to Physiology, and no one, who is ignorant of
chemistry, can possibly engage in this study with success ;
ON CHEMISTRY. 221
for it is necessary, that the physiologist should understand
the chemical nature of the substances he contemplates, and
the laws which oppose vital action.
Chemistry then, is one of the most important branches
of medical education, and like anatomy, must be considered
as a part of the foundation of medical science.
We might here consider the value of chemistry to the
practitioner of medicine, who cannot make an original
prescription without danger of forming either an inert, or
violent medicine, having properties altogether different
from those he intended it should have possessed. Numer-
ous proofs of such errors might be cited, if called for ; the
fact is, however, too obvious to require their mention.
It is also important to the physician, that he should be
familiar with the laws of chemical combination ; for on them
depends the administration of antidotes to poison. The
physician should also be able to recognise all the powerful
mineral and vegetable medicines and poisons ; for he may
often be called upon to detect them, and in situations
where he is unable to call in the aid of a professed chemist.
His successful treatment in cases of poisoning often
depends upon an immediate knowledge of the nature of
the poison, and by a few chemical experiments, requiring
but a few moments, he is enabled, if he is acquainted with
chemistry, to obtain for himself the desired knowledge, and
to act with promptitude in the cure.
The physician is also frequently called into courts of
justice, to decide on the nature of substances, suspected to
be poisonous. By chemical means only, can he ascertain
the nature of the suspected substance, and form an opin-
ion worthy of credit.
The lawyer and advocate should also be acquainted with
chemistry, for they are otherwise unable to understand the
opinions of the medical witnesses, and to discriminate be-
tween truth and error, in chemical evidence. There are
222 DR C. T. JACKSOJN'S LECTURE.
numerous cases where this knowledge might be useful in
courts of justice, not only in capital, but also in civil law
suits.
The agriculturist may also obtain much useful know-
ledge from chemistry — for the nature of soils may be
amended or improved, by treatment dependent entirely on
chemical laws. The nature of soils and of the manures
they require, and the action which these substances have
on vegetation, are all subjects of chemical inquiry, and
those acquainted with chemistry, have a great advantage
over those who are ignorant of it. Examples might be
mentioned, where the application of chemical principles,
has been of the greatest utility in the treatment of soils,
but we have not time to enter into such details.
The preacher of the gospel may also derive some of the
most beautiful illustrations of the power, wisdom, and
benevolence of the Deity, from reflections on the laws that
regulate the combinations of matter. How varied and
wonderful are the phenomena presented by the combining
energy of the elements ! How curious and beautiful are
the laws which produce regular and symmetrical forms in
crystals ! How nicely adapted to their various ends are
all things in the inorganic as well as in the organic
world ! How kindly distributed are the beds of coal, in
regions where they are most required ! How curiously
the veins of metallic ores, are distributed in the rocks, and
the strata of rock formations are tilted up, at such angles
as to present sections of their whole mass, and disclose
beds of valuable minerals contained in them. The science
of chemistry is the light by which the mineralogist and
geologist discover the nature, constitution and laws of
these phenomena, and it shows him how these things have
come to pass. Chemistry is then a study, exalting our
powers of conceiving the laws, which the Creator of the
universe has employed, in the construction, change and
ON CHEMISTRY. 223
renovation of the material world. Such studies cannot
fail then, if pursued in a rational manner, to make man
wiser, happier and better.
On the portico of the Academy at ancient Athens was
this inscription, " Let no one enter here ivho does not
understand Geometry.'' We learn from this inscription,
how great a value the ancient Greeks attached to the sci-
ence of geometry ; so that it was forbidden to any one not
acquainted with its principles, to enter the temple, con-
secrated to learning and refined taste. They valued geo-
metry not only for its immediate, practical utility, in the or-
dinary affairs of life ; instructing them in the measurement
of land ; calculation of distances ; in the construction of
various engines, useful in war and in peace ; the motions of
the heavenly bodies, by which time was computed ; of
mechanic powers, by aid of which they might construct
their dwellings. The application of this science to the
rules of taste were not to be overlooked ; it taught them
symmetry in the proportions of their temples, whose unri-
valled beauty have ever since served as models in archi-
tecture.
But we may doubtless suppose, that a class of philoso-
phers, idealists like the Greeks, had other objects than
these in view. The study of geometry, they perceived,
had something in it ennobling to the human mind. It
taught man to reason, to investigate the laivs of nature^
and to admire their beauty. This study then, tended to make
man really better, to raise his soul to the contemplation
of sublime objects, which could never have excited so much
admiration, before his reason was enlightened. It tended
to make him more devout in his contemplation of the works
of nature — the works of God.
Chemistry considered in its application to education is of
immense value. Like mathematics, it requires close atten-
tion, and teaches the mind to analyze the •phenomena on which
224 DR C. T. JACKSON'S LECTURE.
it reasons, while the experimental processes serve to fix the
facts learned, indelibly in the memory. This science be-
comes a sort of tangible logic and its results are corrected
and checked by numerous experiments which shut out all
chance of error. This study has so much value in every
point of view that it were well to have it inscribed upon
every college and high school in the country, and the prin-
ciple fully enforced, ^^ Let no one leave these walls until
he has learned Chemistry.''^
LECTURE IX.
THE INTRODUCTION OF NATURAL HISTORY
AS
A STUDY TO COMMON SCHOOLS.
By a. a. GOULD, M. D.
NATUJIAL HI STORY
The subject of this lecture is " Natural History," and
the introduction of il, as a study, into common schools.
My object will be to set forth some of its claims to general
attention, to what extent it may be pursued with advantage
by youth, and the assistance the teacher should render in
studying it.
Everything formed by the hand of the all- wise Creator is
worthy our consideration, and we may derive from the con-
templation of each object, something to excite our wonder.
But since man's necessities may all be supplied by a super-
ficial knowledge of the history and qualities of a very few
articles, it has happened that the study of Natural History,
which embraces in its survey every created thing, has never
formed a branch of el mentary education, and is found to
have been cultivated only in the midst of prosperity, and a
state of advanced civilization. Natural History in this
respect ranks with the Fine Arts. So much have the
talents of all men in this country been hitherto demanded
to look after the serious concerns of a rapidly increasing
population^ that Natural History as well as the fine arts,
is as yet in its infancy with us. The community is not yet
aware of its utility. The naturalist is perpetually asked
the question, what is the use of all your plants and stones
and bugs ? and he is oftener looked upon as a crazy man,
than as one possessed of his right mind.
228 DR GOULD'S LECTURE.
That the pursuit of Natural History has done much
towards ameliorating the condition, and administering to
the comforts of mankind, cannot be denied. Aided by
commerce, it has been the means of distributing the plants,
trees, fruits and animals of any one country to every coun-
try over the whole globe. A knowledge of the proi)erties
of the products of nature, has enabled man to make them
all administer to his advantage.
But as we are now regarding Natural History as a matter
of common education, we will consider the personal advan-
tages, rather than the general ones, which are to be derived
from its study — and more particularly, such as regard the
youth.
As a mental exercise, it is well adapted for the attention
of youth. The mind is not obliged to dwell upon abstract
propositions, but there is something tangible for it to
operate upon. It is addressed to their senses, and tends
to perfect them, by exercise in the repeated observation of
form, color, order, size, &c., while at the same time, the
mind is naturally brought into exercise in the act of com-
paring and judging, and in attempts to deduce the final
causes of all the diversity witnessed.
There are many prejudices inculcated by ignorant nurses
and domestics, which oftentimes greatly embitter many mo-
ments of life, and of which the youthful mind may be
divested by the study of Natural History. What child
has not been alarmed at the ticking of the death watch,
which Natural History shows to be connected with no
other agency than a minute beetle, innocently amusing him-
self by beating his head against a piece of wood. Which
of us has not cautiously and fearfully skulked past the
pool by the road side, when we have seen the harmless
dragon-fly {LiheJlula) perched upon a stone or twig, lest
the darning-needle, as we have been taught to consider it,
should attack us, and sow up our eyes. What more likely
ON NATURAL HISTORY. 229
to produce a chill of horror than the dancing jack-o'-lantern
when its cause is unknown ? Numerous examples of a
similar character, relating to other classes of the animal
kingdom, might be adduced.
Immediately connected with the preceding, we might
recommend Natural History as a general study, because we
thereby learn the uses of every created thing — and which
of them is advantageous or detrimental to the interests of
man. The botanist learns that plants with cruciform,
papilionaceous or compound flowers are rarely if ever
baneful, while aquatic, umbelliferous plants and those with
a milky juice are generally poisonous. The entomologist
finds, that of all the tribes of insects, very few can inflict
personal injury upon man. That none of them have jaws
sufficiently powerful to penetrate our skins, except a few of
the fly kind, who are provided with a set of knives and
lancets for the express purpose of phlebotomizing us —
that in general, all we have to dread from the beetle, the
spider or the caterpillar, is the curious titillating sensation
which they produce, by crawling over the exposed skin.
That the only formidable weapon they wield is the sting,
and that the possession of this is confined to a particular
family of insects, viz. those which, like the hornet and
wasp, possess four membranous wings. No insect, how-
ever much it may resemble a bee or wasp, need be feared,
if it be found to possess but two wings.
Were we, by a study of Natural History, to trace out
the relative dependence and the office of each of nature's
works, we should be far less dissatisfied with her arrange-
ments than we usually are — far less disposed to quarrel
with her, for producing what we erroneously suppose are
merely for our annoyance. We should then learn, that the
toad, which we regard with so much abhorrence, is the best
possible protector of our gardens from the depredations
of insects — that the crow who pulls up one blade of corn
230 DR GOULDS LECTURE.
for the sake of its kernel, saves ten from destruction by
worms — that the woodpecker which we endeavor to drive
and exterminate from our orchards, because of his imagined
injury to our fruit trees, has no more mischievous object,
than to extract the insects which lurk beneath the bark.
The spider is a loathsome creature — and yet it is the
principal agent in the destruction of the pestilential flies ;
the fly is exceedingly impertinent and vexatious — yet it is
of unspeakable value to us for the speedy decomposition
and removal of dead animal matter, whose noxious vapors
would soon render life precarious, or to say the least, bur-
densome. Even the mosquito has its redeeming qualities.
To this tribe of insects we are indebted for the purity of
our xiisterns and standing pools of water. It is the office
of their larvae to devour all the animalculoe and vegetable
solutions in these waters, and thus preserve them from
becoming putrid.
Thus, I say, were' we in this way to make ourselves
acquainted with the uses and habits of the living things
about us, we should not so often interfere with our interests
by destroying them ; we should find very minute agents
engaged in magnificent undertakings, for our good ; we
should be altogether less disposed to complain of any sup-
posed infringements upon our rights and comforts, and
should exercise far more charity towards many beings
which have been the objects of cur persecution — we
should regard their innocence and kind purposes, and not
judge merely by outward appearances.
Now this whole subject lies within the scope of the
observation of every youth. There is perhaps no study
from which the mind may be so rapidly stored with facts.
The satisfaction derived from the surmounting of difficulties
is ever great ; and so is that derived from the conscious-
ness of having added to the stores of our mind by our own
unaided eflforts. These feelings, together with the inherent
ON NATURAL HISTORY. 231
beauty which the student finds in all nature's works, are
continually operating as stimuli, to urge him to more ex-
tended researches.
I feel that I may safely recommend the study of Natural
History not only as a source of pure, rational enjoyment,
but as one of high moral power. Such is the nature of
the subject, the harmony of nature's works, the wisdom
displayed in their contrivance, the accumulating proofs of
the benevolence of the Father of us all, that no study is
more likely to purify the affections, and to direct them to
the great Author of nature, the only Being worthy our
adoration. And we find that the legitimate effects do
follow. Naturalists, as a class, have been frequently held
up to view, for the mildness and serenity of their tempers,
their industrious and virtuous lives, and their pure morals.
Indeed, so perfect is my own confidence of the preservative
agency of the study of Natural History on the morals, that
could I see a taste for any one branch of it awakened and
cherished in a youth, I should rest at comparative ease in
regard to his future good habits — I should feel that habits
of industry were ensured — that the hours of leisure which
others would spend in idleness or dissipation, would be
usefully and innocently employed by him. I should feel
assured that he would be preserved from vice and crime —
and this, it will be acknowledged, is a matter of no small
consideration, as regards the quiet of any parent, guardian
or teacher.
The full improvement of each moment of time is ear-
nestly sought, by every man who realizes its brevity, and
the numerous and weighty matters that may and should
be accomplished while it endures. There are moments in
the hours of every studious man, when he finds himself un-
able to continue, with pleasure or advantage, the task before
him; and he seeks something to fill up the interval
profitably. Here, recourse is usually had to some work of
232 DR GOULD'S LECTURE.
fiction, by which to amuse and relax the mind — for it is
well known that the mind does not admit of absolute rest
— it will always be filled by its own imaginings, if it be not
directed to some specific object. But when fatigued by
long continued application to one subject, it merely requires
the subject to be changed, and it acts as if it had not been
wearied. Now, nothing more pleasant can be presented, to
occupy such moments, than the study of Natural History
— and it is more useful than the light reading to which
students usually have recourse, by as much as the works of
God are more instructive than the works of man. I know
a gentleman who, in the study of his profession made it a
point, that in the course of reading one volume relating to
his profession, he would read one on some subject connected
with Natural History ; and he believes that these studies
were simultaneously pursued, with as much progress in
both, as if only one had been pursued at a time. With
regard to the expediency of alternation in studies however,
teachers may differ.
But much of the time of every man is taken up in
change of place, either required by his daily avocations, or
in travelling for health, pleasure or information. This
time is usually consumed, so far as regards the mind, in
vague and fruitless thought, because we are in no way
interested in the objects by which we are surrounded. All
intermediate space between our starting point and our
destination appears a blank of lost time. Now this would
not be so, were a taste for Natural History cultivated — the
time would not be lost, either as regards new stores of
knowledge, or rational enjoyment. In the midst of lone-
liness we should never be lonely — in the absence of
human friends we should never lack intercourse or con-
verse with beings ever worthy of our admiration, and ever
capable of affording us instruction.
In addition to its mental and moral excellencies, the study
ON NATURAL HISTORY. 233
of Natural History is of no small value as a source of health.
In this view of the subject, my remarks will be more particu-
larly applicable to the study of Natural History in the high
schools and academies, by those who are in preparation for
the University, and for professional life. The restlessness
and buoyancy of childhood and youth, and its immunity
from cares and anxiety, exempt it from those ills which
severe study and sedentary life induce, and to which I al-
lude. It is as a preventive and antidote to those difficul-
ties which are appropriately designated as the " disorders
of literary men" that I would recommend the study of
Natural History as sovereign. No matter what province
of it is selected, the efficacy will be ample, and the result
desired morally certain, provided that ardor and interest
which naturally belongs to the subject, is excited.
The disorders above alluded to, are all, or nearly all,
chargeable upon errors in diet and regimen : and those
errors are but two, one in regard to each particular,
viz. too much indulgence in appetite, and too little bodily
exercise ; or rather, the great amount of nourishment taken,
is entirely disproportioned to the small amount of exercise
practised. I leave it for others to demonstrate the reality
and fatality of this error. It belongs to the physiologist
proper, and not to the naturalist. Still, the value of the
study of Natural History as a medical resource, affijrds
so strong an argument in favor of its pursuance, and the
health and well-being of the literary community is of such
surpassing importance, that I hope for pardon if I now
assume the physician so far, as to exhibit to you the reasons,
which induce me to believe, that something more than my
partiality for natural science lies at the bottom.
The secret is not obscure or remote. It is simply this.
You wait not to be told, for observation or bitter experi-
ence may have already told all of you, thatdyspepsy. in all
its protean forms, is the ruthless scourge of scholars and
29
234 I>R GOULDS LECTURE.
literary mei>. You know too, that it is induced by want
of exercise, and that it demands exercise for its cure. But
perhaps you may not know, though the physician does^
with what difficulty the dyspeptic is excited to exertion, or^
if he betake himself to it, as if his life depended upon a
certain amount of exercise and a certain quantum of nour-
ishment, daily, bow difficult, if not impossible it is, to amuse
his mind at the same time. The dyspeptic is most em-
phatically a selfish man — his whole thoughts are turned
upon himself. He counts and measures every step h&
takes — he watches and weighs the effect of every morsel
of food he eats — he notices every occurrence in his systen*
which is sufficiently grave to excite sensation, and which is
probably inseparable from even the man in perfect health,,
under similar circumstances, and wonders what they meanv
In short, he is wholly absorbed in self. Now it becomes
necessary, for the successful and speedy rehef of his mal-
adies, that his mind should become divested of such anxiety
— for it is labor of mind disproportioned to bodily vigor that
maintains and aggravates his disease ; and it is this kind of
anxiety which adds the keenest pangs to his real sufferings.
Exercise, however freely and faithfully pursued under such
circumstances, loses more than half its benefit.
Such is the true state of the case. Now this is the simple
remedy. Let such a man adopt the study of some branch of
natural science, or the study of nature in general. Suppose
him to choose Botany. The dyspeptic takes his book and
learns some of the general and leading characters of plants^
— he daily collects from the garden such specimens as he
finds there, and examines them — soon his garden is ex-
hausted, his knowledge is increased, and his ardor height-
ened, and he strolls to the neighboring meadow, busily
seeking for new objects, and delighted by each one he
finds. This field is soon exhausted, and his enkindled
zeal by degrees urges him through forests and over moun-
ON NATURAL HISTORY. 235
tains, till soon no pedestrian enterprise seems too irksome,
or too arduous for him, if he may but gratify his thirst for
acquirement, in his favorite pursuit. And thus he is led on,
step by step, forgetful of himself and of fatigue, and having
spent his hour or his day almost without a consciousness
of effort of body, and his mind disburthened of weighty
cares, he returns home invigorated by the full benefit of
healthful air and exercise, besides having amused himself,
and added new stores to his knowledge.
The same enthusiasm will result, and the same salutary
effects ensue, whether he sally forth with the book and the
case of the botanist, the hammer and bag of the mineral-
ogist, the nets and boxes of the entomologist, the rod and
basket of the ichthyologist, or the fowling-piece of the
ornithologist.
Such a course will soon restore tone to the exhausted
digestive organs, and cheerfulness and rationality to the
downcast and hypochondriac mind of the confirmed dys-
peptic. That such would be the result, the nature of the
case would lead us to expect, and the experience of many
might be brought in confirmation. If such is the benefit
in regard to confirmed dyspeptics, under all the disadvan-
tages of an exhausted system, how like a moral certainty
must it appear, that a student may, if he chooses, maintain
his health in vigor by a similar course, without materially
interfering with his destined course of study. Is he not
chargeable with all the mischief arising from the neglect
of it?
I feel justified, therefore, to recommend, in strong terms,
the study of Natural History as a source of health, with-
out which, any amount of knowledge, however great, can
be of little gratification to ourselves and of little use to
others.
Having said thus much of the adapted ness of the study
of Natural History to the elevation of our physical, mental
,236 DR GOULD'S LECTURE.
and moral natures, I proceed now to point out what I
think to be the character and amount of this study, which
it is practicable and desirable should be introduced into
common education, and to suggest some methods of pur-
suing it.
Once, when I was in the country, a little boy, four or five
years old, saw me deposit an insect which I had captured,
in my collecting box. He disappeared, but returned in a
few moments, bringing me a fine beetle, and invited me
to enter his father's garden, where he told me he could
show me plenty of bugs. I did so ; and as we passed
rapidly along from plant to plant, he predicted what insects
we should find upon each species, and even went so far as
to point out to me the transformations which several of them
underwent, with great accuracy and assurance. I was
equally delighted and astonished. His mother remarked
that she had seen him stand by the hour, carefully observ-
ing the bushes, but could not imagine what occupied his
attention. He could give them no names, but he could
describe them by their external appearance, and he knew
their history, their habits and their residence, and he had
at. the same time learned something about the plants on
which they dwelt. I introduce this little history here,
because it exemplifies precisely what I wish to commu-
nicate to you of my ideas as to the manner in which Nat-
ural History is to be commenced and prosecuted by ordinary
and youthful minds — the manner in fact, in which I would
have Natural History studied, in common schools and
academies.
The study of Natural History being a matter of relaxa-
tion and gratification, rather than one that is essential to
supply the necessities of life, no one will set himself about
it, or be compelled to engage in it, as a task ; whenever it is
pursued, it will be done voluntarily and eagerly. Curiosity
and interest then, are first to be excited. This it not to
ON NATURAL HISTORY. 237
be done by commencing with an attempt to render the
immature mind master of a system of hard names. No
department of Natural History except Botany, requires
that anything hke a system should be learned at the outset,
and this has perhaps been rendered necessary, by the man-
ner in which books on that subject are constructed, the
sexual system of Linnasus being employed as an index to
them. And nothing serves to illustrate the fruitlessness of
such a plan more fully, than this very study of Botany,
hitherto the most popular of all branches of Natural His-
tory in schools. In consequence of the evil attached to it,
the time allotted for its acquisition is barely sufficient to
gain a knowledge of its terms, and the whole science
becomes little else than the counting of stamens and pistils ;
and if the student can tell whether a plant belongs to
pentandria or didynamia, words to which he attaches no
meaning, it is the height of his aspiration. This is even
of more importance to him than the name of the plant.
It is of no consequence whether it is good for the food of
man or beast, whether it is sanatory or poisonous, whether
it may be cultivated on dry or wet soil. The kind of
knowledge which is usually gained is, in fact, neitlier val-
uable nor appropriate for youth, because it is neither prac
tical nor comprehensible. The grand aim in the education
of youth is, to store the mind with facts ; and the object
of instruction is to point out the way, and assist in acquir-
ing them. Maturer age will arrange and systematize these
facts, and render them of practical value. Especially is
this the secret of improving time economically in Natural
History. Encourage in children and youth habits of ob-
servation, and store the mind with facts, in the common
schools, or during the period of life usually spent in com-
mon schools, and if the subject should not be pursued at
length in after life, this knowledge of facts will be all that
will remain of any use to them. But if taste and oppor-
238 DR GOULD'S LECTURE.
lynity lead them to become, in the extended sense of the
word, naturalists, they will make much greater progress
in systems and technicalities in their own studies, with
books in their own hands, a knowledge of language ade-
quate to understanding them, and obj(icts before their eyes
for tiie purpose of illustrating them — he will do this, I
say, equally well, if not much better, without instruction
than with.
The elements of all knowledge lie in personal and
practical observation, and every one to be a naturalist
must collect and examine objects himself. It is impossible
to study Natural History to any a^dvantage merely from
books, as we can grammar, and rhetoric, and mathematics.
A man by his closet acquirements in Natural History
may obtain for himself by way of distinction, the name
of the Naturalist, and discourse most eloquently for
hours on the habits, uses, beauties and residence of
plants, shells, insects, &,c. but who actually cannot
recognise one out of ten of the various objects whose
history he is so well acquainted with, when presented
to his view. T do not believe in the utility of encum-
bering the minds of children with technicals, which
neither they, nor their grandfathers can comprehend, and
which they are constantly and ludicrously misapplying.
They sound sufficiently pedantic when coming from the
lips of manhood. And while I maintain that the study of
Natural History is peculiarly appropriate and delightful
to youth, I say let it be confined almost entirely to
observation. Induce scholars to observe the form of the
root, stem, flower and seed of the plant — its time of
blossom and seeding — the soil on which it grows — its
duration — the insects that resort to it, or are peculiar to it
— their transformation, means and mode of life ; — let them
observe the structure and plumage of the birds — their
song — their nests —the time of their appearance and
ON NATURAL HISTORY. 239
disappearance, and the food on which they subsist; — leJ
them examine the shells and the fish which abound in
every ocean, and lake, and brook, and let them study the
various instincts of the higher orders of the animal kingdom ;
— let them look through the whole chain of nature and see
the mutual dependence of each link on every other —
what a wonderful and complicated provision there is for
the unceasing destruction and revivification of all organized
matter. It is a fact that nothing is peraiitled in nature
to remain dormant ; for no sooner does anything cease to
be actively useful, whether vegetable or animal, than its
decay is hastened by the attacks of living beings both
animal and vegetable, and its spoils afford sustenance to
various creatures, by whom it is immediately endowed with
the principle of vitality, in being thus appropriated.
From man and the lords of the forest, the sea, and the
air, down to the lowest animalculae, there is a mutual depen-
dence and connexion, which it is alike useful, and curious,
and wonderful to contemplate. They in turn destroy each
other, and nourish each other. This mutual dependence,
and the curious provisions in structure, by which each
creature is adapted to fill the place it occupies, affords an
inexhaustible theme for a lifetime of observation. In this
light, and in this alone, would I recommend the study of
Natural History in common schools. I would have child-
ren study no books but nature's own book. I know that
it is not necessary for every one to go over anew the whole
process of discovery, which others have previously pointed
out ; the very purpose of books and improvements in edu-
cation would then be nugatory, and we should be making
no advance in science. But you will j)erceive my meaning
to be, thrst the time of early education should be given to
observation, and the acquisition of facts by observation^
which shall be delightful and useful throughout life ; and
that it should not be spent in the fruitless exercise of laying
up words without ideas.
240 DR GOULDS LECTURE.
There is one point of view, however, in which this posi-
tion should be quahfied. Whenever the name of an object
is inquired for, (and it is one of the ruling propensities of
youth, to know the names of everything) it is as easy to teach
a correct name as an incorrect one — a name which will be
recognised the world over, as one which will be understood
in one neighborhood or one language only. It is as easy,
for instance, to remember the words Slrombus or Buccinum
as Conch — the word Scalaria, as Wentletrap — Helix, as
Snail — Melolontha, as Dor-bug — Solidago, as Golden rod
— Falco, as Hawk — Columba, as Pigeon, &c. By avail-
ing themselves of every opportunity of this kind, much that
is correct and useful might be communicated by parents
and teachers. At any rate, there is no excuse, at the
present day, for propagating error in children's books. It
is unpardonable to rejiresent; as I have seen done, a Moth
under the name of Butterfly, a kind of Grasshopper under
the name of Hornet, and a Crab with six legs instead of
ten.
There are a few general principles, however, which must
needs be taught at the outset, to indicate to the student the
common points to be noticed in every research in Natural
History ; and without a knowledge of which, much time
might be spent in useless observation. Such, for instance,
as that all the vegetable creation, from the microscopic
lichen or the mushroom of a day, to the gigantic oak of a
thousand years, have, at one time or another, blossoms and
fruit, either obvious or concealed — that each member of
the animal creation is adapted, by its structure, for a pecu-
liar mode of life, destined to occupy a peculiar place in the
animal economy, and by an examination of which, the natur-
alist would be able to tell the mode of life of any object
which might be presented to him, even though he may
never have seen it alive. It is well known, that the great
Cuvier, by seeing a tooth, or almost any single bone, was
ON NATURAL HISTORY. 241
able to declare with positiveness the habits and structure of
the animal to which it belonged. It is important to be
known, also, that all insects undergo wonderful transform-
ations during their existence — that birds have periods of
moulting, and pairing, and migration — that shells are in-
habited by animals — and a multitude of things of a similar
nature, which will immediately suggest themselves to the
mind of any one who has qualified himself as an instructer
in Natural History, by a course of practical observation.
Granting now, that the subject of Natural History is an
interesting and useful one for the attention of youth, you
will say the subject is interminable, we cannot attend to
all the branches of Natural History, at least with any pros-
pect of making much progress in them. Which depart-
ment, then, is most suitable for the youthful capacity?
This is a difficult question to decide, because all are
fascinating and practicable, and yet all have their peculiar
difficulties, as well as attractions. The study of Botany
has always been the most popular, and is most likely to
continue so, because of the innate partiality for flowers
which seems to be implanted in every one — the facility
with which it may be pursued practically — and because
no violence is done to those tender sympathies which so
much adorn the youthful mind, by any restraint or destruc-
tion of animal life. Still it is a study necessarily encum-
bered with hard names, and is not apt to induce an attention
to the habits of plants. The study of Entomology is em-
inently exempted from this last charge, and the objects for
study are vastly more diffused and accessible than those
which are subjects of examination in Botany, and also more
immediately connected with self; but they are regarded,
most unjustly too, as objects of disgust, and legitimate
subjects for persecution and extermination, and the sacrifice
of life is involved in their collection and examination.
These two departments, Botany and Entomology, should
30
242 DR GOULD'S LECTURE.
be studied in connexion ; because every plant has some
one or more insects peculiar to it, besides affording occa-
sional nourishment or refuge to many that are not so limited
in their range. In fact, the different parts of a plant, — the
root, stem, leaf, flower and fruit, have each their parasite.
The entomologist learns where to expect each species of
insect he desires. He is not obliged to subject himself as
a ludicrous spectacle, in chasing a butterfly over the field,
if he would obtain it ; but he knows the plant where he
may find it in its unfledged state ; and he knows, also,
the proper season for expecting it. Thus, in the pursuit of
one study, we unavoidably come in contact with the objects
of the other.
The study of the Crustacea and Mollusca, which occupy
the same place at sea that insects do on land, is by no
means devoid of interest. But it must be limited to those
who reside in the vicinity of the sea.
Conchology, within a few years, has come to engage a
disproportioned share of attention and has perhaps been
more generally studied, than any other branch of Natural
History. Its interest consists chiefly in the beauty and
variety of shells. This is wanting in profit as a study for
youth, because it is for the most part an indoor study,
and because shells are the mere inanimate residences,
of creatures about which a scholar will seek no knowledge.
Conchology, as it is usually studied, is in fact a mere grati-
fication of curiosity, an amusement, innocent and pleasant
in itself, but fraught with little real information, and Httle
practical benefit.
Ichthyology and Ornithology are both of them liable to
the objection, that they may nurture, in youth, habits of
cruelty, and a disregard for life, every approach to which
we should beware of cherishing. Aside from this, I can
conceive of no study more pleasing and healthful than that
of Ornithology. It leads us to the contemplation of objects
ON NATURAL HISTORY. 24<3
innocent and charming in themselves: their habits and
modes of life are sufficiently wonderful to excite our highest
admiration ; their form and colors are wonderfully beautiful
and graceful ; their song so melodious as to charm the most
fastidious ear ; their example might inculcate many a pre-
cept of affection and innocence ; and, withal, the study
implies the enjoyment of the purest air, the loveliest scenery,
and the most healthful exercise.
Mineralogy is a subject of perhaps even more universal
attention than Botany. Its practical utility, and the in-
trinsic value of its products, have perhaps tended to render
it such. These considerations are weighty in advancing
the claims of Mineralogy. By the ardor with which it is
usually pursued, we reasonably conclude that it abounds
in interest. In short, we find connected, almost all the
benefits which might be expected from the pursuit of other
departments of Natural History ; and we find nothing to
set down against it, unless it be, that it is not a study appro-
priate for both sexes, and that such an extended and
thorough acquaintance with it as would render it practically
useful, requires a knowledge of Chemistry which few
possess.
On the whole, then, we think there is little to choose
between Mineralogy, Botany, Entomology and Ornithology,
as a study for youth. They are each sufficiently useful,
and sufficiently attractive and fascinating; and objects for
consideration in each of these branches are abundantly
accessible.
How abundant they are, no one can realize who has not
himself made them objects of search. Nearly five thousand
animals and plants, besides minerals, are already catalogued
by Professor Hitchcock, in his Report on the Mineralogy,
Botany and Geology of Massachusetts. Hundreds and
thousands of birds, plants and minerals are within the daily
walks of almost every individual in the country, while the
244 DR GOULD'S LECTURE.
hosts of insects are almost countless. They are in every
path, in every pool, and on every blade of grass. The
entomologist, while in search of insects, tramples down the
rarest plants, and turns over the richest mineral specimens
without noticing them ; while the botanist or the miner-
alogist crushes thousands of insects beneath his feet, while
in pursuit of the subjects of his favorite science.
It may be expected that I should say a few words on the
modes of teaching Natural History to children. The object
is to teach them the art of observing, and not the rules of
books. Let the teacher first inculcate, that every object he
sees upon the face of the globe, however repulsive at first
sight, is worthy of examination, that it has something pecu-
liar to itself, and that it has an office to perform in the
economy of the universe. Let him then endeavor to illus-
trate this, by exhibiting and explaining some object whose
history he knows — no matter what this is — the first may be
a mineral, the next a plant, and the next an insect. While
doing this, he will, of course, be obliged to point out the
important parts of that object, and the uses to be made of
them. I will endeavor to illustrate what I mean, by a
single example. Let the teacher go to the common thistle
in July, and he will usually find upon its leaves a brownish
caterpillar, covered with spines : let him show how these
spines, being longer than those on the thistle, of course
protect the tender body of the caterpillar from being
wounded : let him show how the caterpillar, in the course
of his growth, casts off" one skin after another, to allow of
his enlarged size : see him arrived at his full growth, seek-
ing a place beneath some leaf, where he may suspend him-
self— now he spins a small, thick web, and fastening his
hinder feet into it, he swings off, and hangs head downward
— soon the skin bursts behind his head, and he, in the
most wonderful manner, extricates himself from his skin,
and casting it down, remains suspended in his place., without
ON NATURAL HISTORY. 245
legs for motion, or mouth to take food, appearing like a
mass of solid gold. About fourteen days from this, during
which this nymph or chrysalis, as the pupil may be told it is
called, remains motionless, without eating or drinking
let them observe again ; they will perceive the gold to
become dim, and the morning afterward, the covering burst,
and an unseemly creature is seen to issue forth, and cling
to its cast off clothing — watch it for half an hour, see its
wings expand, and behold the beautiful calico butterfly :
tell him how it flits about for a very few days, deposits and
secures its curious eggs, which are to produce, not butter-
flies, but caterpillars, and then dies. You have taught a
lesson which he will delight to observe again and again, and
point out to others, and which will serve as an example for
the study of every other caterpillar the child may ever meet
with. Next, you may take up some other object, no matter
what, which shall be illustrated. It will be seen that the
study is to be mostly pursued out of doors, and that all in-
struction is to be given by lectures, and not in the form of
recitation. This may all be done without the aid of books
or the encumbrance of hard names ; and it requires that
the teacher should be but little in advance of his pupils.
After much attention to the subject, the pupil may not
have become a proficient in any single branch of Natural
History ; but he will have acquired an unquenchable love
for the whole subject, and will have cultivated, at an early
age, the only true method of making any proficiency as a
naturalist ; and if, in after life, his circumstances shall pre-
vent him from aspiring to this title, he will have directed
his thoughts into a channel which will afibrd him a never-
faihng source of amusement, happiness and profit, whatever
may be his lot in life, or wherever he may be situated.
LECTURE X.
THE SCIENCE OF GOVERNMENT
BRANCH OF POPULAR EDUCATION.
Bt JOSEPH STORY.
THE SCIENCE OF GOVERNMENT.
Gentlemen — The objects of the American Institute of
Instruction are, as I understand them, in a great measure,
if not altogether of a practical nature. Under such circum-
stances the time passed here might well be deemed ill employ-
ed, if any attempt were now made merely to bring together
topics for literary amusement and recreation, or an elabo-
rate discourse, designed to gratify the taste of scholars,
should be substituted for plain, direct and grave discussion.
I shall, therefore, proceed at once to the task, which has
been assigned to me on the present occasion, and endeavor
to bring before you such views as have occurred to me
touching " The Science of Government as a branch of
popular Education."
The subject naturally divides itself into three principal
heads of inquiry. In the first place, is the science of
Government of sufficient general importance and utility to
be taught as a branch of popular education ? In the next
place, if it be of such importance and utility, is it capable
of being so taught ? And in the third place, if capable of
being so taught, what is the best or most appropriate method
of instruction ? My object is to lay before you some con-
siderations on these topics, in the order in which they are
stated ; and I think that I do not overvalue them, when I
assert, that there are few questions of a wider or deeper
interest, and few of a more comprehensive and enlarged phi-
31
250 JUDGE STORY'S LECTURE.
losophy, so far as philosophy bears upon the general
concerns of human Hfe.
First, then, as to the importance and utiUty of the science
of government. Of course I do not intend here to speak
of the necessity of government in the abstract, as the only
social bond of human society. There are few men in our
age, who are disposed to engage in the vindication of what
some are pleased to call natural society, as contra-distin-
guished from political society ; or to pour forth elaborate
praises in favor of savage life, as superior to, and more
attractive than social life. There is little occasion now
to address visionaries of this sort ; and if there were, this is
not the time or the place to meet their vague and declama-
tory asseverations. It is to the science of government,
that our attention is to be drawn. The question is not,
whether any government ought to be established ; but
what form of government is best adapted to promote the
happiness, and secure the rights and interests of the
people, upon whom it is to act. The science of government
therefore involves the consideration of the true ends of
government, and the means, by which those ends can be
best achieved or promoted. And in this view it may be
truly said to be the most intricate and abstruse of all human
inquiries, since it draws within its scope all the various
concerns and relations of man, and must perpetually
reason from the imperfect experience of the past for the
boundless contingencies of the future. The most, that
we can hope, under such circumstances, to do. is, to make
nearer and nearer approximations to truth, without our
ever being certain of having arrived at it in a positive form.
This view of the matter is not very soothing to human
pride, or human ambition. And yet the history of human
experience for four thousand years has done little more
than to teach us the melancholy truth, that we are as yet but
in the infancy of the science : and that most of its great
THE SCIENCE OF GOVERNMENT. 251
problems remain as yet unsolved, or have been thus far solved
only to mortify human vanity and disappoint the spirit of
political prophecy. Aristotle and Cicero, the great masters
of antiquity in political philosophy, exhausted their own
ample resources rather in the suggestion of hints, than in
the formation of systems. They pointed out what had
been, or then were the forms and principles of existing
governments, rather to check our ardor, than to encourage
our hopes ; rather to instruct us in our duties and difficul-
ties, than to inflame our zeal, and confirm our theories.
They took as little courage from the speculations of Plato,
pouring out his fine genius upon his own imaginary
republic, as modern times have from examining the Utopia
of Sir Thomas Mo^e, or the cold and impracticable reveries
of one of the most accomplished men of the last age, David
Hume.
The truth is, that the study of the principles of govern-
ment is the most profound and exhausting of any, which can
engage the human mind. It admits of very few fixed
and inflexible rules ; it is open to perplexing doubts, and
questions in most of its elements ; and it rarely admits of
annunciations of universal application. The principles,
best adapted to the wants and interests of one age or
country, can scarcely be applied to another age or country
without essential modifications, and perhaps even with-
out strong infusions of opposite principles. The diflferent
habits, manners, institutions, climates, employments, char-
acters, passions, and even prejudices and propensities, of dif-
ferent nations, present almost insurmountable obstacles to
any uniform system, independently of the large grounds of
diversity, from their relative intelligence, relative local posi-
tion, and relative moral advancement. Any attempt to force
upon all nations the same modifications and forms of govern-
ment, would be founded in just as little wisdom and sound
policy, as to force upon all persons the same food, and the
262 JUDGE STORY'S LECTURE.
same pursuits ; to compel the Greenlanders to cultivate vine-
yards, the Asiatics to fish in the Arctic seas, or the polished
inhabitants of the south of Europe to clothe themselves in
bear skins, and live upon Iceland moss and whale oil.
Government, therefore, in a just sense, is, if one may so
say, the science of adaptations — variable in its elements,
dependent upon circumstances, and incapable of a rigid
mathematical demonstration. The question, then, what
form of government is best? can never be satisfactorily
answered, until we have ascertained for what people it is
designed ; and then it can be answered only by the closest
survey of all the peculiarities of their condition, moral, in-
tellectual and physical. And when we have mastered all
these, (if they are capable of any absolute mastery) we
have then but arrived at the threshold of our inquiries.
For, as government is not a thing for an hour or a day, but
is, or ought to be, arranged for permanence, as well as for
convenience of action, the future must be foreseen and
provided for, as well as the present. The changes in
society, which are forever silently but irresistibly going on —
the ever diversified employments of industry — the relative
advancement and decline of commerce, manufactures, agri-
culture and the liberal arts — the gradual alterations of
habits, manners and tastes — the dangers, in one age from
restless enterprise and military ambition, in another age
from popular excitements and an oppressive poverty, and in
another age from the corrupting influence of wealth, and
the degrading fascinations of luxury — all these are to be
examined and guarded against, with a wisdom so compre-
hensive, that it must task the greatest minds, and the most
mature experience.
Struck with considerations of this sort, and with the
diflliculties inherent in the subject, there are not a few men
among those, who aim to guide the opinions of others, who
THE SCIENCE OF GOVERNMENT. 253
have adopted the erroneous and alarming doctrine so
forcibly expressed by Pope, in a single couplet,
" For forms of government let fools contest ;
Whate'er is best administered, is best."
As if everything were to be left to the arbitrary will and
caprice of rulers; and the whole interests of society were to
be put at risk upon the personal character of those, who
constitute the existing government. According to this
theory, there is no difference between an absolute despotism,
and a well organized republic ; between the securities of a
government of checks and balances, and a division of
powers, and those of a sovereignty, irresistible and unre-
sisted ; between the summary justice of a Turkish Sultan,
and the moderated councils of a representative assembly.
Nay, the doctrine has been pressed to a farther extent,
not merely by those, who constitute, at all times, the regular
advocates of public abuses, and the flatterers of power, but
by men of higher characters, whose morals have graced,
and whose philosophy has instructed the age, in which they
lived. The combined genius of Goldsmith and Johnson
arrived at the calm conclusion, that the mass of the people
could have little reason to complain of any exercises of
tyranny, since the latter rarely reached the obscurity and
retirement of private life. They have taught us this great
conservative lesson, so deadening to all reforms and all
improvements, with all the persuasive eloquence of poetry,
" In every government though terrors reign,
TJiough tyrant kings and tyrant laws restrain,
How small of all, that human hearts endure,
That part, which laws or kings can cause or cure."
If this were true, it would, indeed, be of very little con-
sequence to busy ourselves about the forms or objects of
government. The subject might amuse our leisure hours,
254 JUDGE STORY'S LECTURE. '"
but could scarcely touch our practical interests. But the
truth is far otherwise. The great mass of human calamities,
in all ages, has been the result of bad government, or ill-
adjusted government ; of a capricious exercise of power, a
fluctuating public policy, a degrading tyranny, or a deso-
lating ambition. Bad laws and bad institutions have grad-
ually sunk the peasantry and artisans of most countries to
a harsh and abject poverty, and involved them in sufferings,
as varied and overwhelming, as any inflicted by the desolating
march of a conqueror, or the sudden devastations of a
flood.
But an error of an opposite character, and quite as mis-
chievous in its tendency, is, the common notion, that gov-
ernment is a matter of great simplicity ; that its principles
are so clear, that they are little liable to mistake ; that the
fabric can be erected by persons of ordinary skill ; and that
when once erected upon correct principles, it will stand
without assistance,
" By its own weight made steadfast and immoTable."
This is the besetting delusion (I had almost said beset-
ting sin) in all popular governments. It sometimes takes
its rise in that enthusiasm, which ingenuous minds are apt
to indulge in regard to human perfectibility. But it is
more generally propagated by demagogues, as the easiest
method of winning popular favor by appeals, which flatter
popular prejudiceSj and thus enable them better to accom-
plish their own sinister designs. If there be any truth,
which a large survey of human experience justifies us in
asserting, it is, that in proportion, as a government is free,
it must be complicated. Simplicity belongs to those only,
where one will governs all ; where one mind directs, and
all others obey ; where few arrangements are required, be-
cause no checks to power are allowed ; where law is not a
THE SCIENCE OF GOVERNMENT. 256
science, but a mandate to be followed, and not to be dis-
cussed ; where it is not a rule for permanent action, but a
capricious and arbitrary dictate of the hour.
But, passing from these general considerations, (upon
which it is, at present, unnecessary to enlarge,) I propose
to bring the subject immediately home to our own business
and bosoms, by examining the importance and utility of
of the science of government to Americans, with reference
to their own political institutions. And I do not hesitate
to affirm, not only, that a knowledge of the true principles of
government is important and useful to Americans, but that
it is absolutely indispensable to carry on the government of
their choice, and to transmit it to their posterity.
In the first place, what are the great objects of all free
governments ? They are, the protection and preservation
of the personal rights, the private property, and the public
liberties of the whole people. Without accomplishing
these ends, the government may, indeed, be called free,
but it is a mere mockery, and a vain fantastic shadow. If
the person of any individual is not secure from assaults and
injuries ; if his reputation is not preserved from gross and
malicious calumny ; if he may not speak his own opinions
with a manly frankness ; if he may be imprisoned without
just cause, and deprived of all freedom in his choice of
occupations and pursuits ; it will be idle to talk of his
liberty to breathe the air, or to bathe in the public stream,
or to give utterance to articulate language. If the
earnings of his industry may be appropriated, and his
property may be taken away at the mere will of rulers, or
the clamors of a mob, it can afford little consolation to
him, that he has already derived happiness from the
accumulation of wealth, or that he has the present pride of
an ample inheritance ; that his farmis not yet confiscated ;
his house has not yet ceased to be his castle, and iiis
children are not yet reduced to beggary. If his public
256 JUDGE STORY'S LECTURE.
liberties, as a^man and a citizen, his right to vote, his right
to hold office, his right to worship God according to the
dictates of his own conscience, his equality with all others,
who are his fellow citizens ; if these are at the mercy of
the neighboring demagogue, or the popular idol of the day ;
of what consequence is it to him, that he is permitted to
taste of sweets, which may be wantonly dashed from his
lips at the next moment, or to possess privileges, which
are felt more in their loss, even than in their possession ?
Life, liberty, and property stand upon equal grounds in the
just estimate of freemen ; and one becomes almost worthless
without the security of the others. How, then, are these
rights to be established and preserved ? The answer is, by
constitutions of government, wisely framed and vigilantly
enforced ; by laws and institutions, deliberately examined,
and steadily administered ; by tribunals of justice above
fear, and beyond reproach, whose duty it shall be to protect
the weak against the strong, to guard the unwary against
the cunning, and to punish the insolence of office, and the
spirit of encroachment, and wanton injury. It needs
scarcely be said, how much wisdom, talents, discretion,
and virtue are indispensable for such great purposes.
In the next place, the people have taken upon themselves,
in our free form of government, the responsibility of
accomplishing all these ends ; the protection and preserva-
tion of personal rights, of property, and public liberty. Is
it quite certain, that we shall successfully accomphsh such
a vast undertaking ? Is any considerate man bold enough
to venture on such an assertion ? Is not our government
itself a new experiment in the history of the world ? Has
not every other republic, with all the wisdom, and splendor,
and wealth, and power, with which it has been favored,
perished, and perished by its own hands, through the might
of its own factions ? These are inquiries, which may not
be suppressed or evaded. They must be met and delibe>
THE SCIENCE OF GOVERNMENT. 257
rated, they press upon the minds of thousands, who are
most interested in our destiny, as patriots and statesmen.
They are not disposed of by a few fine flourishes of rhetoric,
or by a Wind and boasting confidence. They involve the
hopes and the happiness of our whole posterity ; and we
must meditate on them, if we would save either ourselves
or them. One of the first lessons of wisdom is to under-
stand our dangers ; and when we understand them, we
may then be prepared to meet the duties and difficulties of
our position.
In the next place, we have chosen for ourselves the most
complicated frame of republican government, which was
ever oflfered to the world. We have endeavored to
reconcile the apparent anomaly of distinct "sovereignties,
each independent of the other in its own operations, and
yet each in full action within the same territory. The
national government within the scope of its delegated
powers is beyond all doubt supreme and uncontrollable ;
and the State governments are equally so within the scope of
their exclusive powers. But there is a vast variety of cases,
in which the powers of each are concurrent with those of
the other ; and it is almost impossible to ascertain with preci-
sion, where the lines of separation between them begin and
end. No rulers on earth are called to a more difficult and
delicate task, than our own, in attempting to define and
limit them. If any collision shall happen, it can scarcely
be at a single point only. It will touch, or it will trench,
upon jealousies, interests, prejudices, and political arrange-
ments, infinitely ramified throughout the whole extent of the
union. The adjustments, therefore, to be made from time
to time, to avoid such collisions, and to carry on the general
system of movements, require a degree of forecast, caution,
skill, and patient investigation, which nothing but long
habits of reflection and the most mature experience can
supply.
3^2
258 JUDGE STORY'S LECTURE.
In the interpretation of constitutional questions alone,
a vast field is open for discussion and argument The
text, indeed, is singularly brief and expressive. But that
very brevity becomes of itself a source of obscurity ; and
that very expressiveness, while it gives prominence to
the leading objects, leaves an ample space of debatable
ground, upon which the champions of all opinions may
contend with alternate victory and defeat. Nay, the very
habits of free inquiry, to which all our institutions conduct
us, if they do not urge us, at least incite us to a perpetual
renewal of the contest. So that many minds are unwilling
to admit anything to be settled ; and the text remains with
them a doubtful oracle, speaking with a double meaning,
and open to glosses of the most contradictory character.
How much sobriety of judgment, solid learning, historical
research, and political sagacity are required for such critical
inquiries ! Party leaders may, indeed, despatch the matter
in a few short and pointed sentences, in popular appeals to
the passions and prejudices of the day, or in harangues, in
which eloquence may exhaust itself in studied alarms, or
in bold denunciations. But statesmen will approach it
with a reverend regard. They will meditate upon conse-
quences with a slow and hesitating assent. They will weigh
well their own responsibility, when they decide for all
posterity. They will feel, that a wound inflicted upon the
constitution, if it does not bring on an immediate gangrene,
may yet introduce a lingering disease, which will weaken
its vital organs, and ultimately destroy them.
But it is not in the examination and solution of con-
stitutional questions alone, that great abilities and a
thorough mastery of the principles of government are
required of American statesmen. The ordinary course of
legislation in the national councils is full of intricate and
perplexing duties. It is not every man, who can make an
animated address at a popular meeting, or run through
i
THE SCIENCE OF GOVERNMENT. 259
the common places of party declamation at the hustings with
a fluent elocution and a steady presence, who is qualified
for a seat in the national legislature. The interests of four
and twenty states are there represented, and are there to be
scrupulously weighed and protected. Look but for a
moment over the vast extent of our country ; the varieties
of its climates, productions, and pursuits; its local pecu-
liarities, and institutions ; its untiring enterprise ; and
inexhaustible industry. Look to the ever changing char-
acter of agriculture; the sugar, cotton and rice of the South ;
the wheat, corn and tobacco, of the Middle States ; and the
stubborn, but thrifty growth of the North, yielding to
culture, what seems almost denied to climate. Look to the
busy haunts of our manufactures, rising on a thousand hills,
and sheltered in a thousand valleys, and fed by a thousand
streams. Everywhere they are instinct with life, and noisy
or noiseless industry, and pouring forth their products to
every market with an unceasing flow, which gathers, as it
goes. Look to the reaches of our foreign commerce
through every region of the globe. It floats on the burning
breezes of Africa ; it braves the stormy seas of the Arctic
Regions. It glides with a bounding speed on the weary
coasts and broad streams of Southern America. It doubles
the capes of the Indias, and meets the trade winds and
monsoons in the very regions of their birth. It gathers its
treasures from the deep soundings of the banks of Newfound-
land. It follows the seal in his secret visits to the lonely
islands of the Southern Pacific. It startles the whale on his
majestic march through every latitude, from the hither
Atlantic to the seas of Japan. The sun shines not on the
region, where its flag has not saluted the first beams of
the morning. It sets not, where its last lingering rays
have not played on the caps of its masts. And, then,
again, look to the reaches of our internal commerce along
the various inlfts and bays and ports of the seaboard,
260 JUDGE STORY'S LECTURE.
through the vast and almost interminable rivers and valleys
of the West ; on the broad and restless lakes, through the
deep prairies, and up the steeps of the Rocky mountains,
and onward to the far ocean, which washes the darkened
shores of two continents.
Look, I say, to these extensive yet connected interests,
and who, but must admit, that to understand their intricate
relations and dependencies, to gather up even the fragments
of that knowledge, which it is necessary to possess in order
(I will not say to guide, and direct them, but) not to mar,
and destroy them, there must be years of patient, thorough,
and laborious research into the true principles and policy
and objects of government.
But it is not to rulers and statesmen alone, that the
science of government is important and useful. It is
equally indispensable for every American citizen to enable
him to exercise his own rights ; to protect his own interests ;
and to secure the public liberties and just operations of
public authority. A republic, by the very constitution of
its government, requires on the part of the people more
vigilance, and constant exertion than all others. The
American repubhc, above all others, demands from every
citizen unceasing vigilance and exertion, since we have
deliberately dispensed with every guard against danger or
ruin, except the intelligence and virtue of the people
themselves. It is founded on the basis, that the people
have wisdom enough to frame their own system of govern-
ment, and public spirit enough to preserve it ; that they
cannot be cheated out of their liberties ; and they will
not submit to have them taken from them by force. We
have silently assumed the fundamental truth, that, as it
never can be the interest of the majority of the people to
prostrate their own po litical equality and happiness, so they
never can be seduced by flattery or corruption, by the
intrigues of faction, or the arts of ambition, to adopt any
THE SCIENCE OF GOVERNMENT. 261
measures, which shall subvert them. If this confidence in
ourselves is justified, (and who among Americans does not
feel a just pride in endeavoring to maintain it ?) let us
never forget, that it can be justified only by a watchfulness
and zeal in proportion to our confidence. Let us never
forget, that we must prove ourselves wiser, better and
purer, than any other nation ever yet has been, if we are to
count upon success. Every other republic has fallen by the
discords and treachery of its own citizens. It has been
said by one of our departed statesmen, himself a devout
admirer of popular government, that power is perpetually
stealing from the many to the few. It has been said by
one of the greatest orators of antiquity, whose life was
devoted to the republic, with a zealous but unsuccessful pat-
riotism, that the bad will always attack with far more spirit,
than the good will defend, sound principles. The republic,
(said he with a melancholy eloquence,) the republic is
assailed with far more force and contrivances, than it is de-
fended, because bold and profligate men are impelled by a
nod, and move of their own accord against it. But I know
not, how it happens, the good are always more tardy.
They neglect the beginning of things, and are only roused
in the last necessity. So that sometimes, by their delay and
tardiness, while they wish to retain ease, even without
dignity, they lose both. Those, who are willing to be the
defenders of the republic, if they are of the lighter sort,
desert ; if they are of the more timid sort, they fly. Those
alone remain, and stand by the republic, whom no power,
no threats, no malice can shake in their resolution.* Such
is the lesson of ancient wisdom, admonishing us, as from
the grave ; and it was pronounced, as it were, at the very
funeral of Roman liberty.
Besides, in other countries there are many artificial
* Cicero Oratio, Pro Scxtio. ch. 47.
262 JUDGE STORY'S LECTURE.
barriers against sudden changes and innovations, which
retard, if they do not wholly obstruct them. There are
ecclesiastical and civil establishments, venerable from their
antiquity, and engrafted into the very habits and feelings
and prejudices of the people. There are hereditary honors
and privileges, the claims of aristocracy, and the influenceg
of wealth, accumulated and perpetuated in a few families.
We have none of these to embarrass, or overawe us. Our
Statutes, regulating the descent of estates, have entirely
broken down all the ordinary means of undue acccumu-
lation ; and our just pride is, that the humblest and highest
citizens are upon a footing of equality. Nothing here can
resist the will of the people ; and nothing certainly ought
to resist their deliberate will. The elements of change are,
therefore, about us in every direction, from the fundamen-
tal articles of our constitutions of government, down to the
by-laws of the humblest municipality.
Changes then may be wrought by public opinion, wher-
ever it shall lead us. They may be sudden, or they may
be slow ; they may be for the worse, as well as for the
better ; they may be the solid growth of a sober review of
public principles, and a more enlightened philosophy; or
they may be the spurious product of a hasty and ill advised
excitement, flying from evils, which it knows and feels, to
those far greater, which it sees not, and may never be able
to redress. They may be the artful delusions of selfish
men taking advantage of a momentary popularity, or the
deep laid plan of designing men to overthrow the founda-
tions of all free institutions. This very facility of intro-
ducing changes should make us more scrupulous in adopt-
ing innovations, since they often bring permanent evils in
their train, and compensate us only by accidental and tem-
porary good. What is safe, is not always expedient ; what
is theoretically true, is often practically false, or doubtful ;
what at first glance seems beneficial and plausible, is upon
THE SCIENCE OF GOVERNMENT. 263
more mature examination often found to be mischievous or
inefficient ; what constitutes the true policy and security
of free governments lies not unfrequently so distant
from immediate observation and experience, that it is
rashly rejected, or coldly received. Hence, it has been
remarked, that a free people rarely bestow on good rulers
the powers necessary for their own permanent protection,
and as rarely withhold from bad ones those, which may be
used for their own destruction.
Again, independently of the common causes, which are
constantly at work in all governments, founded upon the
common passions and infirmities of human nature, there
are in republics some peculiar causes to stimulate political
discontents, to awaken corrupt ambition, and to generate
violent parties. Factions are the natural, nay, perhaps the
necessary, growth of all free governments ; and they must
prevail with more activity and influence, just in proportion,
as they enlist in their ranks the interests and power of
numbers. Where all the citizens are, practically speaking,
voters, it is obvious, that the destiny of public men and
public measures must essentially depend upon the contest
at the polls, and the wisdom of the choice, which is there
made. We need not be told that many other influ-
ences are present on such occasions, than those, which arise
from talents, merit and public services. We need not be
told how many secret springs are at work to obstruct that
perfect freedom and independence of choice, which are so
essential to make the ballot box the just index of public
opinion. We need not be told, how often the popular
delusions of the day are seized upon to deprive the best
patriots of their just reward, and to secure the triumph of
the selfish, the cunning, and the time-serving. And yet,
unless the people do at all times possess virtue and firm-
ness and intelligence enough to reject such mischievous
iflfiuences ; unless they are well instructed in public aflairs,
264 JUDGE STORY'S LECTURE.
and resolutely maintain the principles of the constitution,
it is obvious, that the government itself mustsoon degenerate
into an oligarchy ; and the dominant faction will rule with
an unbounded and desolating energy. The external forms
and machinery of the republic may continue to exist, like
the solemn pageantry of the Roman Senate in the times of
the emperors ; but the informing spirit will have departed,
and leave behind it only the faded and melancholy memo-
rials of irretrievable decay.
I have but glanced at these considerations, each of which
might well furnish a topic for a full discourse. If the
remarks already suggested are in any measure well founded,
they estabUsh the great truth, that as in the American
republic the people themselves are not only the source of
all power, but the immediate organs and instruments of its
due exercise at all times, it is of everlasting importance
to them to study the principles of government ; and
thoroughly to comprehend men, as well as measures, ten-
dencies as well as acts, and corrupting influences, as well
as open usurpations. To whom can we justly look for the
preservation of our public liberties and social rights ; for the
encouragement of piety, religion and learning ; for the
impartial administration of justice and equity ; for wise and
wholesome laws and a scrupulous public faith; but to a
people, who shall lay a solid foundation for all these things
in their early education, who shall strengthen them by an
habitual reverence, and approbation ; and who shall jeal-
ously watch every encroachment, which may weaken the
guards, or sap the supports, on which they rest ?
And this leads me to the next topic, upon which I
propose to address you ; and that is the practicability of
teaching the science of government as a branch of popular
education. If it be not capable of being so taught, then,
indeed, well may patriots and philanthropists, as well as
philosophers, sink into profound despair in regard to the
JUDGE STORY'3 LECTURE. ' 265
duration of our republic. But it appears to me, that we are
by no means justified in arriving at such a desponding con.
elusion. On the contrary, we may well indulge a firm and
lively hope, that, by making the science of government an
indispensable branch of popular education, we may gradually
prepare the way for such a mastery of its principles by
the people at large, as shall confound the sophist, repress
the corrupt, disarm the cunning, animate the patriotic, and
sustain the moral and religious.
It is true, that a thorough mastery of the science of gov-
ernment in all its various operations requires a whole life
of laborious diligence. But it is equally true, that many of
its general principles admit of a simple enunciation, and
may be brought within the comprehension of the most
common minds. In this respect it does not materially
diflfer from any of the abstract physical sciences. Few of
the latter are in their full extent within the reach of any,
but the highest class of minds ; but many of the elements
are nevertheless within the scope of comn^on education,
and are attainable by ordinary diligence. It is not
necessary, that every citizen should be a profound states-
man. But it may nevertheless be of vast consequence,
that he should be an enlightened, as well as an honest
voter, and a disciplined thinker, if not an eloquent speaker.
He may learn enough to guard himself against the insidious
wiles of the demagogue, and the artful appeals of the
courtier, and the visionary speculations of the enthusiast,
although he may not be Jible to solve many of the tran-
scendental problems in political philosophy.
In the first place, as to the constitution of the United
States ; and similar considerations will apply with at least
equal force to all the State constitutions. The text is con-
tained in a few pages, and speaks a language, which is
generally clear and intelhgible to any youth of the higher
classes at our common schools before the close of their
33
266 JUDGE STORY'S LECTURE.
usual academical studies. Nay, it may be stated with
confidence, that any boy of ordinary capacity may be made
fully to understand it between his fourteenth and sixteenth
year, if he has an instructer of reasonable ability and qualifi-
cations. He may become possessed of the actual organiza-
tion and powers of the government, under which he lives, to
which he is responsible, and which he is enjoined by every
duty of patriotism and interest to transmit unimpaired
to future generations. He may practically learn the lead-
ing divisions of the great powers of all governments into
legislative, executive, and judicial. He may ascertain in
some general way the definite boundaries and appropriate
functions of each. He may understand yet more ; that there
are checks and balances everywhere interposed to limit
power, and prevent oppression, and ensure deliberation,
and moderate action. He may perceive, that the House of
Representatives cannot make laws without the co-opera-
tion of the Senate : That the President cannot make ap-
pointments virithout the consent of the Senate ; and yet,
that the President can by his qualified veto arrest the leg-
islative action of both houses. He may perceive that the
judiciary in many parts of its organization acts through, and
by, and under the will of the legislature and executive;
and yet that it stands in many respects independent of
each. Nay, that it has power to resist the combined opera-
tions of both ; and to protect the citizens from their uncon-
stitutional proceedings, whether accidental or meditated.
He may perceive, that the State governments are indispens-
able portions of the machinery of national government.
That they in some cases control it ; and in others again
are controlled by it. That the same supreme law, which
promulgates prohibitions upon certain acts to be done by
the States, at the same time promulgates like prohibitions
upon the acts of the United Slates. He may perceive,
that there are certain leading principles laid down as the
THE SCIENCE OF GOVERNMENT. 267
fundamental rules of government ; and that they consti-
tute a solemn bill of rights, which must be obeyed, and
cannot be gainsaid. He may perceive, that the trial by
jury is preserved, as a matter of right, in all cases of crimes,
and generally also in civil cases : that the liberty of speech
and of the press are constitutionally vindicated ; that n,o
national religion can be imposed upon the community ;
that private property cannot be taken away without
adequate compensation ; and that the inviolability of public
and private contracts is strenuously enforced.
Having arrived at this clear and definite view of the
distribution of the powers of government, with the appro-
priate restrictions belonging to them, he can scarcely fail to
ask, what are the reasons, which induced the framers of the
constitution to adopt them. It is scarcely possible, that
he should be so dull, as not to have some desire to gratify,
or so indifferent, as not to have some curiosity to indulge,
by such inquiries. When he is told on every side, that
this is the form of government best calculated to secure
his personal happiness, and animate his love of liberty,
it would be incredible, that he should feel no interest
in ascertaining, why and wherefore it is so. Why, for
instance, legislation may not as well be confided to one
body, as to two distinct bodies? Why unity in the
executive is preferable to plurality of numbers? Why
the judiciary should be separated from the other branches ?
Why, in short, simplicity in government is destructive of
public liberty ; and a complex machinery of checks and
balances is indispensable to preserve it ? Inquiries of this
sort, if they do not spontaneously rise up in his own mind,
cannot be presented to it by his instructer without opening
new and various sources of reflection. He will thus be
conducted to the threshold of that profound science, which
begins and ends with the proper study of man in all his
social relations,
268 JUDGE STORY'S LECTURE,
And, here, again, it may be confidently affirmed, that
there is not the slightest difficulty in unfolding to our
youth the true nature and bearing of all these arrange-
ments, and the reasons, on which they are founded.
Although they are the result of human wisdom, acting
upon the most comprehensive human experience, and have
tasked the greatest minds to discover and apply them ; they
are nevertheless capable of as exact a demonstration, as-
any other problems of moral philosophy applied to the
business of human life. It required the genius of Newton to
discover the profound mystery of the universal law of gravi-
tation ; but every school boy can novy reason upon it, when
he bathes in the refreshing coolness of the summer stream,
or gazes with unmixed delight on the beautiful starlight of
the wintry heavens. So it is with political philosophy.
Its great truths can be clearly taught, and made famil-
iar to the juvenile mind, at the same time, that they
may well employ the most exalted powers of the human
understanding. What more difficulty, for instance, is there
in a scholar's comprehending the value of checks and
balances and divisions of power in a government, than in
comprehending the value of good order and discipline in a
school, or the propriety of trustees laying down rules to
regulate and control the head master, and he other rules
to guide and direct his ushers? The principles may not,
indeed, always be obvious to the narrow circle of his
thoughts ; but they can be pointed out. They may lie
too remote for his immediate observation ; but he may
learn the paths, by which they may be explored. They
may not as yet be within his grasp ; but he can be taught,
how they may be reached by skill and diligence. He
may not as yet see their full extent and operation ; but
his vision will gradually expand, until he can seize on the
most distant objects, and bring them, as it were, under the
eye of his mind with a close and cloudless certainty.
THE SCIENCE OF GOVERNMENT. 269
Every element of knowledge, which he thus gradually
acquires, will soon become incorporated into his former
stock, until at last he has accumulated a capital, upon
which he may safely set up for himself; and by widening, and
deepening, and strengthening the foundations, he may at
length acquire a character for political wisdom and ability,
which shall make him at once an ornament and a blessing to
his country, even though he may never pass beyond the
precincts of his native village. He may there be able to
quiet the discontented murmurs of a misguided populace.
He may there repress the ordinate love of innovation of the
young, the ignorant, and the restless. He may there stand
the unconquerable friend of liberty ; recommending it by
his virtues, and sustaining it by his councils. He may
there withstand the village tyrant, too often disguised
under the specious character of the village demagogue.
And he may there close his life with the conscious satis-
faction, that as a village patriot, he has thus filled up the
full measure of his duties, and has earned a far more envi-
able title to true glory, than the conqueror, who has lelt the
dark impressions of his desolations in the ruined hopes and
fortunes of millions.
If, on the other hand, a higher destiny awaits him, if he
is called to take a part in the public councils of the state or
nation, what immense advantages must such preparatory
studies and principles give him over those, who rise into
public life by the accidents of the day, and rush into the
halls of legislation with a blind and daring confidence,
equalled only by their gross ignorance, and their rash
ardor for reform. For weal or for wo, our destiny must
be committed to the one or the other, of these classes of
rulers, as jiublic opinion shall decide. Who would willingly
commit himself to the skill of a pilot, who had never sounded
the depths, or marked the quicksands of the coast ? Whg
would venture to embark his all on board a ship, on a short
270 JUDGE STORY'S LECTURE.
voyage, (far more, on the voyage of life,) when the crew
have not learned how to trim the sails, and there is neither
chart or compass on board to guide the navigation ?
I am not aware, that there are any sohd objections, which
can be urged against introducing the science of govern-
ment into our common schools as a branch of popular
education. If it should be said, that it is too deep and diffi-
cult for the studies of youth, that objection assumes the
very matter in controversy ; and, if the observations already
made are well founded, it is wholly indefensible. If it
should be said, that it will have a tendency to introduce
party creeds and party dogmas into, our schools, the true
answer is, that the principles of government should be
there taught, and not the creeds or dogmas of any party.
The principles of the constitution, under which we live ; the
principles upon which republics generally are founded, by
which they are sustained, and through which they must be
saved ; the principles of public policy, by vvhich national
prosperity is secured, and national ruin averted ; these
certainly are not party creeds, or party dogmas, but are fit
to be taught at all times and on all occasions, if anything,
which belongs to human life and our own condition, is fit
to be taught. If we wait, until we can guard ourselves
against every possible chance of abuse, before we intro-
duce any system of instruction, we shall wait until the
current of time has flowed into the ocean of eternity.
There is nothing, which ever has been, or ever can be
taught without some chance of abuse, nay, without some
absolute abuse. Even religion itself, our truest and our
only lasting hope and consolation, has not escaped the
common infirmity of our nature. If it never had been
taught, until it could be taught with the purity, sim-
plicity, and energy of the apostolic age, we ourselves,
instead of being blest with the bright and balmy influ-
ences of Christianity, should now have been groping our
THE SCIENCE OF GOVERNMENT. 271
way in the darkness of heathenism, or left to perish in the
cold and cheerless labyrinths of skepticism.
If it be said, that there is not time, or means suitable to
learn these principles in our common schools, the true
answer is, that, if the fact be so (which is not admitted),
more time should be given, and more ample means be
supplied for the purpose. What is the business of educa-
tion, but to fit men to accomplish their duties and their
destiny ? And, who is there among Americans, that is not
called to the constant performance of political duties, and
the exercise of political privileges ? He may perform, or
use them, well or ill. But the results of the use and abuse
are, and ever will be mixed up with his own intimate inter-
ests. The perils, he may choose, that others shall encoun-
ter, he must share in common with them. He is embarked
in the same ship of state, and the shipwreck, which shall
bury the hopes of others, will not spare his own. What
blessings in human life can fairly be put in competition
with those derived from good government and free insti-
tutions? What condition can be more deplorable, than
that, where labor has no reward, property no security, and
domestic life no tranquillity? Where the slave is compel-
led to kiss the chain, which binds him to wretchedness,
and smile upon his oppressor, while his heart is writhing
in agony? Let not Americans forget, that Greece, immor-
tal Greece, has been free; and yet that thousands of years
have already rolled over her servitude. That Italy, beau-
riful Italy, has been free ; but where is now her repub-
lican grandeur? The Appenines still lift up their bold
and rugged peaks ; the sun still looks down upon her
plains with a warm and cloudless splendor; — but the spirit
of liberty is not there ; and Rome has become, as it were,
the vast sepulchre of her own perished glory.
But, independent of the grave considerations, already
urged in favor of the introduction of political studies into
272 JUDGE STORY'S LECTURE.
our system of popular education, there are other collateral
advantages, which should not be wholly passed by.
In the first place, there are no studies better fitted to
discipline the mind, or to accustom it to severe and close
investigation. They combine in a very high degree the
speculations of philosophy with the varied events of history,
and increase the separate interest of each. They have a
tendency to enlarge, and liberalize the mind, by familiariz-
ing it with comprehensive views of men and things. They
are capable of an indefinite expansion, and variety ; such
as may employ the whole leisure of the most retired scholar,
or suit the short and hasty intervals of the man of business.
They gather up new materials in the daily intercourse of so-
ciety ; and at the same time they enable us to expound its
apparent anomalies, and classify its varied results.
In the next place, they have a powerful tendency to
counteract the rash and hasty judgments, which youth and
inexperience naturally produce in ardent and inquisitive
minds. Nothing is so fascinating, and so delusive, as the
simplicity of theory, in the earlier stages of life. It not
only flatters that pride of opinion, which results from a
supposed mastery of important truths ; but it gratifies that
fresh and vigorous confidence, which hopeth all things,
and believeth all things. The severe lessons of expe-
rience do, indeed, generally correct, or demolish these vis-
ionary notions. But they often come so slow, that irre-
parable mistakes have been already committed ; and the
party is left to mourn over the blight of his own prospects,
or the impending dangers to his country. Nothing can
have a more salutary effect in repressing this undue
pride and confidence than the study of the science of
government. The youth is there taught, how little re-
liance can be placed upon mere abstract speculations ; how
often that, which is theoretically true, becomes practically
mischievous ; how complicated is the machinery necessary
THE SCIENCE OF GOVERNMENT 273
to carry on the operations of a good government ; how
many nice adjustments are required to give full play and
activity to the system ; how slow every change must be to
be safe, as well as improving ; and, above all, how often the
wisest statesmen, the truest patriots, and the most profound
reasoners find defects, where they had least suspected
them ; and their labors, begun with energy and confidence,
end in disappointment and mortification. Nay, systems
of government, which have been apparently reared with
consummate skill and solidity, have often been found
buried in ruins, before the capstone has been placed upon
them ; and while the architect has been still gazing on his
own work he has become the first victim of its ponderous
magnificence.
Considerations of this sort cannot wholly escape an
ingenious youth upon the most cursory examination
of government, as it is read by the lights of history.
They will naturally inspire caution, if they do not awaken
distrust ; and when at every step of his advancement in
political studies, he finds himself compelled to surrender
some imagined truth, to discredit some popular dogma, and
to doubt some plausible theory ; he cannot but profit
by the instructions, which they hold out, and the ad-
monitions, which they silently inculcate. A nation, whose
citizens are habitually attentive to the principles and
workings of government, may sometimes be betrayed ;
but it can scarcely be ruined. At least it cannot be en-
slaved, until it has sunk so low in corruption, that it will
hail the presence of any tyrant to escape from the terrible
scourges of anarchy.
But it may be asked, and this is the last topic, on which
I propose to address you, in what mode is the science of
government to be taught in our common schools? The
answer may be given in a few words. It is by the introduction
and constant use of suitable elementary works, which unfold
34
274 JUDGE STORY'S LECTURE.
the principles of government, and illustrate their application,
and in an especial manner with reference to the forms of
the American Constitutions. Such works should not only be
read but be studied as class books. The instructer, if he
possesses common skill and ingenuity, may easily make
them, not a dry task, but an interesting exercise. By
bringing constantly before the school in the course of read-
ing and recitation, and occasional explanations, the leading
principles of government, he will gradually make the pupils
familiar with their bearing and value. They may not at
once arrive at the various truths, which are designed to be
taught ; but they will silently master them. And by the
time they have passed through the usual preparatory
studies of the school, they will have acquired a stock of
materials for future use of inestimable value — a stock, which
will furnish perpetual sources for meditation, and enable
them to lay a broad foundation for the due discharge of
the duties of private citizens, and the more arduous
employments of public life.
Lord Brougham, one of the most powerful advocates of
popular education in our day, has made the following
remarks, which cannot be more fitly addressed to the con-
sideration of any other body than that, which I have now
the honor to address. " A sound system of government,"
says he, " requires the people to read and inform them-
selves upon political subjects ; else they are the prey of
every quack, every impostor, and every agitator, who may
practise his trade in the country. If they do not read ; if
they do not learn ; if they do not digest by discussion and
reflection, what they have read and learned ; if they do not
qualify themselves to form opinions for themselves, other
men will form opinions for them, not according to the
truth and the interests of the people, but according to their
own individual and selfish interest, which may, and most
probably will, be contrary to that of the people at large. The
THE SCIEiNCE OF GOVERNMENT. 275
best security for a government, like ours, (a free govern-
ment,) and generally for the public peace and public
morals is, that the whole community should be well in-
formed upon its political, as well as its other interests. And
it can be well informed only by having access to whole-
some, sound, and impartial publications."
I shall conclude this discourse with a single sentence
borrowed from the great work of Cicero on the Republic,
the most mature, and not least important of his splendid
labors — a sentence which should always be present to
the mind of every American citizen, as a guide and incen-
tive to duty. " Our country," said that great man, " has not
given us birth, or educated us under her law, as if she
expected no succor from us ; or that, seeking to admin-
ister to our convenience only, she might atford a safe
retreat for the indulgence of our ease, or a peaceful
asylum for our indolence. But that she might hold in pledge
the various and most exalted powers of our mind, our
genius, and our judgment, for her own benefit ; and that
she might leave for our private use such portions only,
as might be spared for that purpose."*
* Cicero De Republicu. L. 1. cli. 4.
INTRODUCTORY DISCOURSE
AND THE
LECTURES
DELIVERED BEFORE THE
AMERICAN INSTITUTE OF INSTRUCTION,
IK
BOSTOxX, AUGUST, 1835.
INCLUDING THE JOURNAL OF PROCEEDINGS
AND
A LIST OF THE OFFICERS.
PDBLISHKD UNDER THE DIRECTION OF THE BOARD OY CENSORS.
BOSTON:
CHARLES J. HENDEK.
1836.
CONTENTS
JOURNAL OF PROCEEDINGS pageix
LIST OF OFFICERS, • . . xiv
ANNUAL REPORT, xix
INTRODUCTORY LECTURE, by W. H. Furness, ... 1
General meaning of the term education, 3 — difficult nalure of education
— consolatory reflection, 4 — the course of human life a model for schools^
5 — the most active influences of nature those in which there is the least
appearance of design — so in the action of mind upon mind in society , 7 —
Example better than precept. Teacher must love what he teaches, 8
— inadequate views of education, 10 — motives which should actuate a
*^eacher, 11.
LECTURE I.
ON THE STUDY OF THE CLASSICS. By A. Crosby. . . 15
Difficulty in selecting particular points for illustration, 15 — Illustrations
drawn from the art of painting — low state of classic acquisition in this
country, 16 — prominent cause of this — inadequate ideas respecting iis
nature — various opinions respecting it, 17 — What is a classic? 17 —
What is implied in the study of a classic ? — first, its meaning must he
fully ascertained, 18 — methods of accomplishing this — various kinds
of knowledge necessary for this purpose, 20 — second, the student must
catch the spirit of the author, 21 — illustration from Wytenbacli's Greek
studies, 22 — by a comparison of the characters of Bentley and Gray, 23 —
third, the student must discover the principles upon which its excellency
depends — advantages of living at the present period of the world — ages
of literature, 24 — literary prospects of our own country, 2.5 — importance
of a coTiect ideal of absolute excellence, 26 — Method of obtaining it, 27 —
analytical and synthetical exercises, 28 — exercises of the former kind —
of the latter, 29 — importance of classical studies, 30.
4-
ly CONTEiNTS.
LECTURE II.
ON A PROPER EDUCATION FOR AN AGRICULTURAL PEO-
PLE. By Samuel Nott, Jr 34
The principles of education applicable to all classes, 35 — relative impor*
tance of the agricultural population — extent of the question, 36 — a proper
education for an agricultural people must be suited, ^to their opportuni-
ties, 37 — in its character it must be Ist. parental — 2. must regard subjects
of present interest and use — 3. should regard their future line of life — 4.
the pursuits of the familj and district must coriespond with those of the
school, 40 — importance of a habit of reading, 41 — of agricultural journals)
42 — 5. improvement of the opportunities afforded 6y the Sabbath, 43 — the
influence of the christian ministry, 45 — their education should be such aa
to render them contented and happy — delight in rural life, 49 — Wash-
ington's love of rural pursuits, 51 — importance of the class of gentlemen
farmers — christian education, 37 — Example of Prussia.
LECTURE III.
ON THE POLITICAL INFLUENCE OF SCHOOL MASTERS. By
E. Washborn. 61
Saying of Mr Brougham that the " schoolmaster was abroad," 63 —
" political influence of schoolmasters" defined, 64 — education defined, 65
— dependence of each age upon the preceding one — influence of national
virtue and intelligence upon government, 67 — illustration drawn from the
English schools and universities, 68 — influence of the schoolmaster, 1st.
over his pupils — 2d. upon the community — influence of public sentiment,
73 — importance of giving it a right direction, 74 — few persons of indepen-
dent views, 75 — influence of the press, 78 — radicalism, 83.
LECTURE IV.
ON THE STATE AND PROSPECTS OF THE GERMAN POPU-
LATION OF THIS COUNTRY. By H. Bokum. 89
Distinction between the German and American population, 91 — redemp-
tioners, 92 — destitution of instruction — description of a foreign school-
master, 93 — superstitions, 95 — want of books — German newspapers, 96
— seminaries — danger to our institutions arising from ignorance.
LECTURE V.
ON RELIGIOUS EDUCATION. By R. Pare. ... 99
Importance of the common school system, 101 — author's views not
sectarian, 102 — present the claims of the principles of the New Testa-
ment — address to^the deist — to the Atheist, 103 — importance of a relig-
)n, 10^— of 1
CONTENTS.
ious education, 104" — of the manner of imparting religious instruction —
duty of parents in tliis respect, 105 — of the sacred desk, 107 — of the
schoolmaster — rules for their direction, 108 — sectarianism to be avoided
i09 — impsrtance of Sabbath Schools, 110.
LECTURE VI,
ON THE IMPORTANCE OF AN ACQUAINTANCE WITH THE
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIND TO AN INSTRUCTOR. By
J. Gregg. .......... Ill
Importance of the science, 113 — answer to the inquiry what is the Phi-
losophy of the human mind — systems of various philosopliers, 114 — true
system not yet developed, 115 — defined, 116 — mode of acquiring a know-
ledge of it, 117 — the philosophy of mind teaches, 1st. the true nature of
education, 118 — education is a process of developement — 2d. it teaches
the true method of education, 121 — the mind is a field to be cultivated —
3d. it teaches the true OTicajw of education, 123 — studies, books and instruc-
tion — 4th it teaches the true ends of education, 127 — effects of utilitarian
philosophy — education its own end, 128.
LECTURE VII.
ON THE ENDS OF SCHOOL DISCIPLINE, By Heney L. Mc
Kean 131
Education a preparation for life, 133 — for practical life, 134 — edu-
cation not completed even with life, 135 — early instruction a preparation
for self education, 136 — end of discipline the developement of the mental
powers — motives to be presented, 137 — effect of punishment, 138 — of
rewards — exercising the memory, 143 — modes of communicating know-
ledge, 145 — the master must take an interest in the pursuits of the pupil
— children should be encouraged to exercise their faculties, 146 — influ-
ence of sympathy on the part of the instructor, 147 — moral discipline, 148
— punishment, 150 — religious instruction.
LECTURE VIII.
ON THE IMPORTANCE AND MEANS OF CULTIVATING
THE SOCIAL AFFECTIONS AMONG PUPILS. By J. Blan-
CHARD. ........... 153
I. Definition of the social affections — external nature arranged so as to
excite and bring to perfection the social feelings — thus shewing the im-
portance which God attaches to them — a survey of the animal world and
the chain of intellectual beings calculated to produce the same effect.
II. Importance of the social affections inferred from the rank they hold
among the powers of the soul — from their agency in all our sorrow and
joy — this illustrated by a family picture — ill-regulated social feeling the
^1 CONTENTS.
cause of " low spirits" — of tlie more violeu', passions — illustrated by
Romish priests — by modern infidels — the two classes compared — the
importance of the social affections inferred from their influence upon the
soul's standing in a future state — old age and death a brief interruption,
not an end of the soul's progress to perfection — the social blessings of this
life contrasted with those of the next — if ever the social affections are
cultivated it must be while the mind is young — pi<oved from Stewart —
illustrated.
III. Means by which a preceptor may cultivate the social affections of
his pupils — ]st. he must be impressed with ils importance — intellectual
progress not social improvement — writers on intellectual philosophy have
neglected the every day intercourse of man — reason why — 2d. the pre-
ceptor must remove all external obstacles to the social enjoyments of pupils
— bad rooms &c. — 3d. reasons why pupils hate each other — Paley's
method of subduing anger applied to this hatred — 4th. how the precep-
tor is to dradicate this hatred from his pupils -^ all persons have agreeable
qualities if we but look for tlieni aright — 5th. pupils made sensible of
tlieir own faults and imperfections to moderate their dislike for others —
Cth. how to enable students to bear ill treatment without anger and hatred
— misconduct not only a crime but a misfortune — use tiie teacher is to
make of this — anecdote — Frances and her classmate — 7th. how to treat
envy and emulation — the way to cure envy — envy will cease if it finds
out that its objects are wretched as it desires — 8th. special instructions to
mset individual cases — ridicule a dangerous weapon — 9th. how to per-
suade pupils they will be gainers by the cultivation of the social feelings
. — this the only means to make them overcome their hateful dispositions
of mind — Mr Ladd and the peace society — 10th. pupils taught their
dependence on each other — their interest is not to offend — 11th. what
they are to gain in manners and address — every person wislies to be
agreeable — influence of social affections upon the manners — Dr Brown's
definition of politeness — Addison's remarks — 12th. the face beautified by
social affections — Addison's remark — handsome face impossible without
sweetness of temper — 13tli. social affoctions to be called into action by
e.xample — necessity of a teacher being amiable — Socrates by Xenophon —
secret of his influence with his pupils — 14th. teachers must teach by the
example of others — Peiicles — his command of temper — Fenelon's meth-
od of teaching by examples — 15th. influence of Christianity upon social
affections — use teachers are to make of it — Robert Hall's remarks —
belief in an ever i>resent God a necessary encouragement to social virtues
— such the materials of future bliss — closing address to the Institute —
importance of the business of te.iching argued from a comparison with
other human|pursuits, — its importance destined to increase with the wan-
ing of war, slavery, and vice of every description till instruction shall
be the whole business of mankind excepting only the necessary care for the
body — result of the whole —conclusion.
CONTENTS. vii
LECTURE IX.
ON THE MEANING AND OBJECTS OF EDUCATION. By T. B.
Fox 181
Story of the two knights and the shield, 183 — applied to illustrate the
diiFerence of views respecting education — different views enumerated, 184
— education defined, 185 — distinguished from instruction — education has
reference to the whole man, 186 — early death, 187 — extent of the period
of education, 188 — physical culture, 189 — physiology, 190 — a knowledge
of it especially important to mothers, 191 — confinement in the school room,
192 — infant schools 193 — intellectual education, 194 — mode of conduct-
ing it, 195 — duty to the schoolmaster, 196 — anecdote of Stouber, 197 —
moral education, 198.
L E C T U R E X .
ON THE MANAGEMENT OF A COMMON SCHOOL. By T.
DviTiGHT, Jr 203
The management of a common school a difficult task, 205 — means of im-
provement numerous, 208 — in order to effect desirable changes it is neces-
sary — 1st. to convince teachers that they are necessary and practicable —
the evils of common schools have been long fell, 209 — description of a
district school, 210 — mutual and simultaneous instruction, 211 — mode
of conducting simultaneous instruction, 212 — the principle of repetition^
215 — district schools favorable for experiments in education, 215 — Pun-
ishments, 217 — useful for the teacher to recall the feelings of childhood, 218
— must love his pupils, 219 — the teacher should advance in knowledge,
220 — methods of instruction, 222 — spelling — reading — writing, 223
— English grammar, 224 — use of new forms and topics of instruction, 225
— vocal music, 226 — religious instruction — objections to it, 227 — weekly
and monthly accounts, 230.
LECTURE XI.
ON MORAL AND SPIRITUAL CULTURE IN EARLY EDUCA
TION. By R. C. Waterston 233
Object of the present mode of education — deficiency in moral and spir-
itual culture, 235 — true education defined — christian morality should ba
taught in schools, 236 — objections considered — 1st. the old plans are
good — there is no occasion for change — 2d. danger that the work will be
overdone — 3d.it would interfere with the child's freedom of mind — 4th.
the mind of the child is not sufficiently matured, 237 — 5th. morality can be
Bufficiently taught at home — 6th. or at Sunday schools — 7th. it might
interfere with private religious opinions, 238 — reasons for it — 1st. the
child's nature requires it — 2d. other branches will suffer without it, 339 —
3d. it is a help to the intellect, 240 — 4th. it is of supreme importance, 241
i
Vlll CONTENTS.
— state of oar common schools — 1st. modes of punishment, 242 — 2d.
tendency of rewards — 3d. of public exhibitions, 243 — duty of a teacher —
1st. he should feel the importance of the end for which he is working —
2d. he should seek to understand his scholars, 244 — 3d. should study their
dispositions — 4th. this example should be amoral lesson — 5th. should
directly teach morality — 6th. should be careful in making selections for
reading &c. 245 — 7ih. books teaching morality should be studied, 246 —
importance of the office of a school teacher —motives of the teacher, 247
— he should be respected, 248 — should be well compensated, 249 — thi»
office should be permanent — appendix, 251.
LECTURE XII.
-^ ON THE MORAL USES OF THE STUDY OF NATURAL HIS-
TORY. By W. Chakwisg, M. D 252
Different views entertained upon this subject — extent of natural history^
254 — the vastness of the universe, 256 — its truth, 257 — its noiseless
character, 2-58 — importance of this lesson of tranquillity to man, ?59 —
mode of studying the universe, 260 — the study of individuals, 261 — cer-
tainty of its results — uses of natural history, 262 — in its relations — col-
lections are made as means not as ends, 263 — these means should be
accessible to all — peculiar stale of things in England and America, 266 —
effect of this upon national character, 267 — communities benefitted by
collections, 867.
LECTURE XIII.
ON SCHOOLS OF THE ARTS. By W. Johhboic. . . . 2n
Advantages of the productive industry of nations, 273 — improvement
of the human condition by the prevalent activity in the arts, 275 — feudal
system, 276 — voluntary associations in Europe for promoting science, 278
— results of such associations, 279 — history of schools of the useful arts,
280 — importance of a knowledge of principles, 281 — our public works
depend upon foreign capital and skill, 283 — example of France, 284 —
impulse extended to England, 285 — endowment of such schools, 286 —
objects of these schools, 287 — extent of the field to be cultivated, 288 —
date of experimental science.
JOURNAL OF PROCEEDINGS
SIXTH ANNUAL MEETING.
Representatives^ Hall, Boston, Aug. 20, 1835.
The Institute came to order at 9 o'clock, A. M., Mr James
G. Carter, of Lancaster, Mass., one of the Vice Presidents, in
the chair, and selections from the records of the last annual
meeting were read.
Mr Gideon F. Thayer, of Brooklyn, was appointed Record-
ing Secretary, pro tem., and Mr H. W. Carter, of Boston, was
appointed Assistant Recording Secretary.
Messrs Metcalf, of Boston, Kingsbury, of Providence, and
Clark of Chelsea, were appointed to receive and seat the ladies
and strangers.
The following communication from the American Lyceum,
was presented by Mr W. C. Woodbridge :
" At a meeting of the American Lyceum, held in May, 1S35,
ft was,
Resolved, That the American Lyceum liighly approve of the
operations of the American Institute of Instruction, and cor-
dially wish it success.
Resolved, That Professor Dewey, Theodore D wight, Jr.,
Robert G. Rankin, and William B Kenney, be a committee to
attend the annual meeting of that Society in August next, to
communicate to it the sentiments of the above resolution."
The following resolution was then presented by Mr Frederick
Emerson, of Boston, and adopted :
Resolved, That the American Institute of Instruction receive
with much pleasure, the communication from the American Ly-
ceum, introducing to thie Institute, Messrs Dewey, Dwight,
Rankin and Kenney. And further, Resohed, That these gen-
tlemen be invited to attend the course of lectures, and partici-
pate in the discussions of the Institute, during the present
session. b
X JOURNAL OF PROCEEDINGS.
Voted, That the hours for commencing business, be half past
8 oclock, A. M., and 3 o'clock, P. M, daily, and 7 o'clock, for
evening discussions.
The records of the Board of Directors were read.
The following gentlemen were appointed to report the doings
of the Institute for the daily papers, viz : Messrs Geo. B. Emer-
son, J. G. Carter, and W, C. Woodbridge.
A committee was appointed to nominate the officers of the In-
stitute for the ensuing year.
The meeting for business was then adjourned until after the
Introductory Lecture.
At eleven o'clock prayers were offered by the Rev. Mr
Blagden, of Boston, and were immediately followed by Rev. Wm.
H. Furness, of Philadelphia, who delivered the Introductory-
Discourse, on " The Spirit of the True Teacher." Subse-
quently, the lectures of the afternoon, &c., were announced to
the Institute, and the meeting was adjoutned.
Aug. 20. — Afternoon.
Business was suspended at half past three, to listen to a lec-
ture from Rev. R. W. Emerson, of Concord, Mass., on "The
best mode of inspiring a correct taste in English Literature."
After this lecture, it was
Voted, That clergymen of the city and vicinity, and others
who may be in town, of all denominations, and all editors, be
invited to attend the course of lectures, discussions, &c. during
the present session.
On motion of Mr F. Emerson, it was
Voted, That the copies of Mr Abbott'^s lecture, of last year,
which remain on hand, be distributed at the discretion of the
Committee of Arrangements.
At five o'clock, a lecture was delivered by E. Washburrr,
Esq. of Worcester, Mass., on the " Political Influence of
Teachers."
The Institute adjourned to Chauncy Hall.
Chauncy Hall. — Evening.
The meeting was called to order at twenty minutes before
eight o'clock. The question for discussion, " What modes of
punishment are adapted to produce the best moral effects," was
then taken up. The discussion was opened by Mr Pettes, of
Boston, and continued by Messrs Alcott, of Boston, and Blan-
chard, of Andover. Mr Pettes here moved, " That each speaker
be limited to five minutes at one time," which motion passed,
unanimously. The discussion was then continued, in which
participated, Messrs Wright, Alcott, F. Emerson, and G. B.
JOURNAL OF PROCEEDINGS. xl
Emerson, of Boston, May, of Brooklyn, Conn., Greenleaf, of
Bradford, Dyer H. Sanborn, of Gilford, N. H., and Peirce, of
Nantucket.
On motion, the Institute adjourned till Friday morning, when
the discussion will be continued.
Representatives' Hall. — Friday, Aug. 21.
The Institute came to order at half past eight o'clock. Mr
J. G. Carter, of Lancaster, in the chair.
The discussion of last evening was resumed by Mr Pettes,
and continued by Messrs Wright, of Boston, Sanborn, of Gil-
ford, Greenleaf, of Bradford, and Choate, of Essex, when, the
time devoted to business having expired, the debate was sus-
pended, and a lecture was given by Mr Herman Bockum, on
" The State and Prospects of the German population of this
country."
Business was then resumed, and it was
Voted, That when the Institute adjourn, it adjourn to meet at
half past five o'clock this afternoon.
On motion of Mr Wright, a Committee of five was appointed,
to report on the question — " What mode of discipline in schools
is best adapted to produce a moral influence on the children of
our country ?"
The following question was proposed by Mr Blanchard :
*' Would not the interests of education be promoted in our com-
mon schools and academies, if the youth in them were to pursue
but one branch of study at the same time V and was adopted
for future discussion. A recess was then announced.
Business being resumed at a quarter before eleven o'clock,
Mr Pettes made a motion, " That every officer of the Institute
be permitted to introduce whom he pleases to the lectures of
the session." After some discussion, the motion having been
amended, by substituting the word " member" for " officer,"
and " one person" for "whom he pleases," the question was
laid upon the table.
At eleven o'clock, Dr Peirson, of Salem, gave a lecture on
*' What Principles in Human Physiology and Anatomy are
most generally neglected in our Systems of Education ?"
The Institute decided in favor of hearing a communication
on " The Prussian System of Schools, with reference to the
applicability of parts of it to the Schools of the United States,"
written by Miss Sarah Austin, of New York, to be read imme-
diately after Dr Peirson's lecture; and it was accordingly pre-
sented at half past twelve o'clock, by George S. Hillard.
Xll JOURNAL OF PROCEEDINGS
Voted, That the question proposed this morning by Mr Blan-
chard, be adopted for discussion tomorrow evening.
The question of authorizing members to invite friends to
attend the lectures, &c. of the Institute, the present session,
was taken up, and on motion of Mr Wright, was, after debate,
indefinitely postponed. The Institute then adjourned.
Aug. 21. — Afternoon.
At half past five o'clock, a lecture was given by Mr Roswell
Park, of George's Island, Mass., on " Religious Education ;"
after which, the Institute adjourned to Chauncy Hall.
Cliauncy Hall. — Evening.
At half past seven o'clock, P. M. the Institute came to order,
and Mr Wright, of Boston, being chosen Secretary pro tem., the
following question was taken up for debate, viz : " VVhat can be
done to remedy the evils arising from a multiplicity of Text Books
in the same district or town ?" After discussion, by the fol-
lowing gentlemen, viz. Pettes, Alcott, G. B. Emerson, F. Em-
erson, Clark, Choate, J. G. Carter, Greenleaf, Marshall, Pearce,
and Benson, Mr Wright made known his intention to present a
resolution at the next meeting, in which the present subject
would be noticed, and the Institute then adjourned.
Saturday, Aug. 22.
The Institute came to order at eight o'clock. Mr J. G.
Carter in the chair.
The doings of yesterday having been read, Mr Wright pre-
sented the following resolution :
Resolved, That the subject now before the meeting, be com-
mitted to a committee appointed by the Institute, with instruc-
tions to report to the meeting next year, respecting our District
and Primary Schools. I. Respecting School Books, 2. Re-
specting School Committees. 3. Respecting School Houses.
On motion of Mr G. B. Emerson, the subject of the above
resolution was divided, so that a separate committee be ap-
pointed to each of the three topics for consideration ; and Messrs
Geo. B. Emerson, Greenleaf, and Blanchard, were appointed to
nominate the committees. The following gentlemen were sub-
sequently nominated to the Institute and appointed, viz. For
committee on School Books and School Committees, Messrs
Wright, Blanchard, and Greenleaf, of Salem. On School Houses,
Messrs Geo. B. Emerson, Gardner S. Perry, and Wm. J. Adams.
The following question for discussion, was presented by Mr
JOURNAL OF PROCEEDINGS. xill
Brooks, and adopted for future use, " What are the best mo-
tives to be presented to pupils as encouragements to moral and
intellectual well doing?"
The Committee of nomination of the officers for the coming
year, reported, through their chairman, a list, which was laid
on the table, and the hour immediately following the first lec-
ture of the afternoon, was fixed on for coming to a choice.
At half past nine o'clocit, Mr H. S. McKean, of Cambridge,
Mass., gave a lecture on " The Ends a teacher should have in
view in the Moral and Intellectual Discipline of Children?"
After which a short recess was had.
The Institute again came to order, and the following question
for discussion, was proposed by Mr Kimball, of Needham.
*' Should not a greater proportion of time be given to extempo-
raneous discussion of questions, which have a direct practical
bearing on education, special reference being had to Public and
District Schools ?"
The question, being accepted, was discussed, by Messrs F.
Emerson, Clark, Dwight, Kimball, Greenleaf, Marshall, and
Metcalf
On motion of Mr Blanchard, the question for discussion, pre-
sented this morning by Mr Brooks, was fixed on for Monday
evening's debate.
At a quarter past eleven o'clock, Mr Jarvis Gregg, of Ando-
ver, gave a lecture on " The importance of an acquaintance
of the Philosophy of Mind to an Instructer." After which, the
following question was proposed and adopted for future discus-
sion : " What are the best ways of teaching spelling ?"
Mr Blanchard presented the following resolution : That each
member of the Institute be permitted to invite two friends to
attend any of the exercises during the remainder of the session.
Which, after some conversation, was indefinitely postponed.
After the announcement of the order of lectures, &-c., of the
coming day, the Institute adjourned.
Aug. 22. — Afternoon.
The Institute came to order soon after three o'clock, when
Mr Wright from the Committee on " Modes of Discipline," dtc.
made a report, which was read and accepted.
At half past three o'clock, Mr H. W. Carter, of Boston, gave
a lecture on the " Means of forming the habit of Attention in
Children." The Institute then took a short recess, after which
it proceeded to make choice of officers for the present year.
Messrs Andrews, Beaman, and Sherwin having been ap-
pointed to sort and count the votes, it appeared that the whole
xiv JOURNAL OF PROCEEDINGS.
list, reported by the nominating committee, was sustained ; and
the following gentlemen were declared elected.
PRESIDENT,
William B. Calhoun, Springfield, Mass.
VICE PRESIDENTS.
Benjamin Abbot, Exeter, N. H.
Lyman Beecher, Cincinnati, Ohio.
Andrew S. Yates, Chittenango, N. Y.
John Griscom, Haverford, Penn.
John Pierpont, Boston, Mass.
James G. Carter, Lancaster, Mass.
John Park, Worcester, Mass.
Daniel Kimball, Needhara, Mass.
William C. Fowler, Middlebury, Vt.
Walter R. Johnson, Philadelphia, Penn,
Martin L. Hurlburt,
Frederick Hall, Baltimore, Md.
Oliver, Hanover, N. H.
Nehemiah Cleveland, Newbury, Mass.
Ebenezer Bailey, Boston, Mass.
Solomon P. Miles, " "
Elipha White, John's Island, S. C.
Stephen C. Phillips, Salem, Mass.
Henry K, Oliver, " "
Jacob Abbott, Roxbury, Mass.
Gideon F. Thayer, Brookline.
RECORDING SECRETARY.
Aaron B. Hoyt, Boston, Mass.
CORRESPONDING SECRETARIES.
George B. Emerson, Boston, Mass.
Henry R. Cleveland, " "
TREASURER.
Richard B. Carter, Boston, Mass.
CURATORS.
Henry W. Carter, Boston, Mass.
Benjamin H. Abbott, " "
Josiah Fairbank, Charlestown, Mass.
JOURNAL OP PROCEEDINGS. xv
CENSORS.
Ethan A. Andrews, Boston, Mass.
Charles K. Dillaway, "
Frederick Emerson, " "
COUNSELLORS.
Abraham Andrews, Boston, Mass.
William J. Adams, New York City.
Jonathan Blanchard, Andover, Mass.
William H. Brooks, Salem, "
Benj. F. Farnsworth, Providence, R. I.
Benjamin Greenleaf, Bradford, Mass.
Alfred Greenleaf, Salem, "
Samuel R. Hall, Andover, "
John Kingsbury, Providence, R. I.
Peter Mackintosh, Boston, Mass.
William Russell, Philadelphia, Penn.
Dyer H. Sanborn, Gilford, N. H.
At five o'clock, a lecture was delivered by Prof. Alpheus
Crosby, of Dartmouth College, Hanover, N. H., on " The
Study of the Classics."
The Institute then adjourned.
Chauncy Hall. — Evening.
•At half past seven o'clock, Mr J. G. Carter in the chair, Mr
Pettes, of Boston, introduced a resolution that no member be
permitted to occupy more than ten minutes in remarks at one
time, which was accepted.
The question appropriated for this evening, viz. " Would the
interests of Education be promoted in our Common Schools and
Academies, if the students in them were permitted to pursue
but one branch of study at a time ?" was taken up, and after a
protracted discussion, in which participated, Messrs Beaman,
Henshaw, Belcher, F. Emerson, Alcott, Pettes, Blanchard,
Clark, Brooks, and George B. Emerson, a resolution was of-
fered by Mr Blanchard, as follows :
Resolved, That in the opinion of this Institute, a student in
a course of study, ought to have but one principal study on
hand at the same time, and that all other pursuits should be so
arranged as to relieve the mind rather than oppress it with an
additional burden.
After a few remarks of Mr Beman, the Institute adjourned.
XVI JOURNAL OF PROCEEDINGS.
Monday Morning, Aug. 24,
The Institute came to order about nine o'clock, Mr J. G.
Carter in the chair.
The records of Saturday were then read, and Mr Blan-
chard's resolution was laid upon the table.
Prayers having been offered by Rev. Dr Peirce, of Brookline,
a lecture was read by Rev. T. B. Fox, of Newburyport, Mass.,
on " The meaning and objects of Education."
After a recess of five minutes, Mr Pettes being in the chair,
Mr Wells, of Hartford, offered the following question for dis-
cussion : " Are not Keys prepared for the use of teachers, on
the whole, injurious rather than beneficial to the schools in
which they are used ?" It was voted to take up the subject
immediately, and, after some discussion, the further considera-
tion of the subject was postponed.
The Institute then listened to a lecture from Mr Theodore
Dwight, Jr., of New York, on " The management of a Com-
mon School."
Mr J. G. Carter then announced that the Annual Report of
the Board of Directors, was ready to be communicated, and the
Institute voting to hear it at this time, it was read by hira and
accepted.
The Institute then adjourned.
Aug. 24. — Afternoon.
At three o'clock the Institute came to order, Mr J. G, Car-
ter in the chair, when Mr Marshall, of Framingham, moved that
in order to favor the introduction of the friends of members of
the Institute, a Committee be chosen to report on this subject;
but the motion did not prevail.
On motion of Mr Pettes, of Boston, the Institute went into a
Committee of the whole ; Mr Wright in the chair.
Mr Pettes then offered the following resolution, which was
unanimously accepted, viz :
Resolved by the members of the American Institute of Instruc-
tion, not of the government. That the Annual Report made by
its officers, and read this day by their chairman, J. G. Carter,
Esq., shews diligence, energy, faithfulness, and a success in the
discharge of their several duties, highly honorable to themselves,
and beneficial to the common interests of the institution, and
entitles them to our thanks, and the confidence of the public.
Mr J. G. Carter, of Lancaster, then, on motion, resumed the
chair.
The attention of the Institute was called to a lecture from
Mr R. C. Waterston, of Boston, on " The importance of giving
a right Moral Direction in the Earlier Stages of Education."
After which a recess of five minutes was had.
JOURNAL OF PROCEEDINGS. XVll
At five o'clock, Dr Walter Channing gave a lecture on " The
Moral Relations of Natural History," and immediately after,
a recess of five minutes was had.
At a quarter before six, Mr J. Blanchard, of Andover, Mass.,
gave a lecture on " The means of cultivating the Social Affec-
tions among Pupils."
At seven o'clock the Institute adjourned.
Chauncy Hall. — Evening.
At half past seven the Institute came to order. Mr J. G.
Carter in the chair.
The question for discussion was, "What are the best motives
to be presented to pupils as encouragements to moral and in-
tellectual well doing."
The following gentlemen participated in the discussion, viz :
Messrs Pettes, Wright, Alcott, Geo. B. Emerson, Swift, Brooks,
Blanchard, and Meacham, when, on motion of Mr Wright, the
further consideration of the subject was postponed until to-
morrow.
The Institute then adjourned.
Tuesday. — Aug. 25.
The Institute came to order at a quarter before nine o'clock-
Mr J. G. Carter in the chair, when the discussion of last eve"
ning being resumed, remarks were made by Messrs Alcott,
Wright and Beaman.
On motion of Mr G. B. Emerson, the further consideration of
the subject was laid upon the table.
After a prayer by Rev. Dr Tuckerman, the lecture of Prof
Walter R. Johnson, of Philadelphia, Penn., on " Schools of
Art," was read by Mr G. F. Thayer, of Brookline.
The Institute here took a recess of five minutes ; after which,
the Rev. S. Nott, Jr., of Wareham, Mass., gave a lecture on
" The proper Education for an Agricultural Population."
The Institute then adjourned.
Aug. 25. — Afternoon.
The Institute came to order at three o'clock. Mr J. G. Car-
ter in the chair ; when Mr H. R. Cleveland, of Boston, gave a
lecture on " The Study of Mythology."
After a recess of five minutes, Mr Sanborn offered the fol-
lowing resolution which was accepted.
Resolved, That there be a Committee appointed to address
the public respecting the best means of improving the condition
of common schools, requesting a publication in the popular
newspapers of the day.
C
XVIU JOURNAL OF PROCEEDINGS.
Mr E. A. Andrews, of Boston, then moved that the resolution
be referred to a Committee of five, to be appointed by the chair-
man, which being agreed to, Messrs Sanborn, Geo. B. Emerson,
S. Nott, Jr., Wright, and E. A. Andrews, were appointed with
instruction to report at the next meeting of the Institute.
A lecture was then read by Hon. Sidney Wiljard, of Cam-
bridge, Mass., on " The importance and means of forming a
taste in English Composition."
The Institute then adjourned.
Chauncy Hall. — Evening.
The Institute came to order at seven o'clock. Mr J. G-
Carter in the chair.
The question for discussion was then taken up — " Is the
course now usually pursued in country schools the best suited
to the wants of those educated in them?"
After a protracted and highly interesting discussion, on mo^
tion of Mr Geo. B. Emerson, the further consideration of the
subject was postponed.
The following resolutions were then presented by Mr Geo,
B. Emerson, and adopted.
Resolved, That the thanks of the Institute be presented to
Rev. W. H. Furness, for his eloquent Introductory Address ;
and to Rev. R. W. Emerson, E. Washburn, Esq. Mr H, Bok-
um, Dr A. L. Peirson, Lieut. R. Park, Mr H. S. McKean, Mr
J. Greffg, Mr H. W. Carter, Prof. A. Crosby, Rev. T. B. Fox,
Mr T.^'Dwight, Jr., Mr R. C. Waterston, Dr W. Channing,
Mr J. Blanchard, Rev. S. Nott, Jr. Prof. W. R. Johnson, Mr
H. R. Cleveland, and Hon. S, Willard, for their lectures which
have given so much interest to the present session of the Insti-
tute.
Resolved, That the thanks of the Institute be presented to the
author of the Essay upon the Prussian System of Schools, for
her very valuable and interesting communication.
Mr Pettes presented the following resolution, which was
adopted.
Resolved, That the impartial and faithful services of the
Presidents and Secretaries who have officiated at this session,
highly merit our approbation and warmest thanks.
On motion of Mr Clark, it was
Voted, That the thanks of the Institute be presented to the
Boston Society of Natural History, for their courtesy in extend-
ing to our members an invitation to visit their rooms.
The Institute then adjourned, sine die.
AARON B. HOYT, Rec. Sec'y.
Boston, Aug. 25, 1835.
ANNUAL REPORT
The Directors of the American Institute of Instruction, ask
leave to submit the following Report :
The various boards of officers, charged with specific duties
and interests of the association, have laid before us their several
reports; and we cheerfully bear testimony to their zeal and
fidelity in the discharge of their appropriate trusts. The gen-
eral policy of our operations having become in some degree
settled by usage, it is not deemed necessary or expedient at this
time, to enter into the details of the transactions of the year,
which closed with the opening of the present session. There
are a few topics, however, which suggest themselves to our con-
sideration, and which we desire to offer for the information and
encouragement of the Institute at large.
The condition of the Institute's Room and Library, under
the care of the Curators, does not differ essentially from that
presented in our last Annual Report. Some improvements
have been suggested by the Board, which will probably be
made by their successors, to render the library more extensive,
and the room more convenient and attractive to those interested
in the objects of our Institution.
The report of the Censors affords abundant evidence of the
persevering efforts of that Board to publish the annual volume of
Transactions in such style, and so seasonably, as to meet the
expectations of the members of the Institute, and the public at
large. But notwithstanding all their efforts, which were prompt
as well as zealous, the usual difficulties adverted to in our last
Annual Report, prevented the publication of the volume before
the eighteenth of June. The Directors cannot devise any
means at present to avoid the delays which have hitherto so
embarrassed the publication of our annual volume, unless the
lecturers can be induced to prepare their lectures for the press
before delivering them, and to put them at once into the hands
of the Censors. If this could be done, the volume might appear
XX REPORT TO THE INSTITUTE.
in a month after the close of each session. However desirable
a prompt publication of the lectures may be, it is a matter,
which must, after all, be left in a great degree contingent upon
the personal convenience of the lecturers. The labor of prepar-
ing a lecture, and in many instances the expense of time and
money consumed in travelling several hundred miles to deliver
it, imposes an obligation upon us too strong to leave us at liberty
to urge a revision for the press, which might still further inter-
fere with personal convenience and private or public avocations.
The obligations conferred by the lecturers before the American
Institute of Instruction, which the Directors think are neither
light, or lightly to be esteemed, are conferred rather upon the
public and upon posterity than upon us. They are fellow
laborers with us in a great public enterprise for the improve-
ment of the science and art of education. We are merely the
almoners of their bounty.
But the intrinsic merit of the Lectures, annually delivered
before the American Institute of Instruction, leaves, we are
persuaded, but a small portion of their value contingent upon
their publication a few weeks or months earlier or later. Facts
and principles touching the subject of education, have their
value at all times and in all places, when and where they can
gain access to the human mind. Every year adds strength to
the conviction, that the lectures and dissertations contained in
our volumes, prepared as they generally are, with several
months' notice, and by gentlemen distinguished in the various
departments of the science to which they have given particular
attention, and embodying, as they generally do, the results of
large experience, and of close and philosophical research, are
forming a new and peculiar department of literature. It has
been reserved for the American Institute of Instruction to bring
together a body of twenty different lecturers from almost every
part of our widely extended country, for six successive years, to
leave with us the results of their professional experience and
observation. Who can measure or foretel the influences, direct
and collateral, which these efforts may exert upon the present
and the coming generation ? They enable our contemporaries
in other places, and our successors here, to take up the science
and the art of education where we leave it, without the painful
necessity of groping their way through all our tedious and some-
times discouraging experience. To the younger members of
the profession, in the absence of all direct and systematical
professional education, our volumes must be altogether invalu-
able. And the time cannot be far distant, when the transac-
tions of the American Institute of Instruction, will be deemed
as essential to the library of the accomplished teacher, as the
REPORT TO THE INSTITUTE. XXI
standard works of any other profession are to the learners and
practicers of the profession. Or as the reports of arguments
and adjudicated cases, are to the profession of the law.
The Treasurer's Report shows that our expenditures, ordinary
and extraordinary, a little exceed our income from the ordinary
sources. But as the extraordinary expenditure was chiefly
caused by the publication of a large edition of a very valuable
lecture delivered before the Institute last year, in the form of a
tract, which has been extensively and gratuitously circulated in
the community, the Directors are persuaded that the appropri-
ation authorized by the Institute was judiciously made, and has
greatly promoted the cause of education.
During the last winter some of the friends of education and
members of the Institute, being desirous of enlarging the sphere
of its benevolent and philanthropic operations, petitioned the
Legislature of Massachusetts for pecuniary aid in promoting
our objects. Their petition received the most respectful con-
sideration ; and with that enlightened liberality, which has in
all periods of their history characterised their legislation upon
the subject of education, they granted the sum of three hundred
dollars a year, for five years, in aid of your objects. Encouraged
by this substantial token of approbation, from the Legislature of
Massachusetts, of your objects, and of the means you have
chosen to promote those objects, the Directors have authorised
the Board of Censors to select such lectures or parts of lectures
from the whole mass contained in our transactions, as in their
judgment, will most promote the cause of popular education, and
cause cheap and large editions of them to be printed for exten-
sive circulation through the whole community. By these means,
and similar ones, which the Directors intend to pursue to the
extent of their power, it is believed great good will be realized
to the mass of the people throughout the country. And they
hope and believe they shall be able to satisfy the people that
they are faithful almoners of the public bounty, — and that their
bread cast upon the waters, will return to them fourfold after not
many days. By order of the Directors,
James G. Carter.
Representatives' Hall, Aug. 24, 1835.
RRATA. — In Lecture 3, page 63, 13th line from top, for " valuable,"
read " rcMeroAZe ;" page 76, 22d line from top", for " mingle," read "ana-
lyse ;" page 83, 14th line from top, for " spurious," read " Spenctr'sy
£rr
read
A
« »
INTRODUCTORY LECTURE,
BY W. U. FURNESS
i
INTRODUCTORY LECTURE.
There is a large and favorite sense of the word Educa-
tion, which lias been defined by no one more eloquently
than by Mrs Barbauld. I refer to that meaning of the
term which applies it to all the influences that form the
character — to the whole process of moral and intellectual
creation. According to this sense of the word, we are al-
ways at school, and we can hardly speak with propriety of
beginning one's education, certainly not of completing it.
How often is it finished for an undefined period, long be-
fore it is supposed to be begun ; and begun long after, in
the common language of the world, it is said to be finished.
It begins with life, or rather life, in the deep meaning of the
word, has its beginning from it; and if ever our nature be-
comes stationary, then only will it end. At home and
abroad, at all times and in all conditions, the invisible work
is going on with results infinitely diversified. Upon this
comprehensive view of education, with which you must
needs be fainiliar, I do not intend to enlarge. I ask your
attention to it partly because it is so consolatory, but prin-
cipally because it is so full of instruction.
The existence of the institution whose annual exercises
I have the honor of introducing, bears witness to the ardu-
ous and difficult nature of the work of education. Profn-
ising as this association is, it is still another plan, a new
effort to study and explain the great business of spiritual
culture, and as such, it is a confession of the mistakes under
which the labor of instruction has been performed, and of
the ill success by which it has been followed. In associ-
4 MR FURNESS'S
ating to seek for light, you show yourselvi-s sensible of the
darkness which overhangs, and the difficulties which en-
tangle your field of exertion. This darkness is heavy, and
these difficulties are great, and truly if any one needs com-
fort and ertcouragement, it is he who undertakes the office
of education. It is not merely the greatness of the object
at which he aims, that is likely to dishearten him. A great
purpose inspires. It does not depress. But it is the ob-
servation of the errors and defects and consequent defeat
of almost every attempt at education — this it is that may
well fill the teacher with dismay. How much has been
said, and written, and done upon this subject! Systems
have we upon systems, all but perfect and almost ready,
one would think, to work of themselves. We have schools
and colleges and institutes of every name and variety ; a
most costly apparatus of means, but with no corresponding
results. And we cannot wonder if the heart of the professed
teacher sinks within him, and he is ready at times to throw
up his office in despair.
The case would indeed seem desperate, if we did not
believe that the process of human culture is going on, not-
withstanding our ignorance and ill success, under " the
great Taskmaster's eye." There is great comfort in that
cxiended view of education to which I have begun with
referring you. It is encouraging to regard the whole sum
of things as a system of instruction, the whole train of
events as a course of tuition, and even the mistakes vvc
commit, our very failures, as parts of the great lesson.
This consolation is open to all, parents and teachers.
" Providence," says the beautiful writer to whom I have
already alluded, and whose language, familiar though it be,
I cannot help quoting, — "Providence takes your child
where you leave him. Providence continues his education
upon a larger scale, and by a process which includes means
far more efficacious. Has your son entered the world at
(;ighteen, opinionated, haughty, rash, inclined to dissipa-
tion ? Do not despair ; he may yet be cured of these faulls,
if it pleases Heaven. There are remedies which you could
not persuade yourself to use, if they were in your power,
and which are specific in cases of this kind. How often do
we see the presumptuous, giddy youth, changed into the
wise counsellor, the considerate, steady friend ! How often
INTRODUCTORY LECTURE. 5
the thoughtless, gay girl, into the sober wife, the affec-
tionate mother ! Faded beauty, liurnbled self-consequence,
disappointed ambition, loss of foriune, — this is the rough
physic provided by Providence to meliorate the temper, to
correct the offensive petulances of youth, [and bring out
all the energies of the finished character. Afflictions soften
the proud ; difficulties push forward the ingenious ; suc-
cessful industry gives consequence and credit, and devel-
opes a thousand good qualities."
But from this enlarged view of education, the teacher
may gather not only comfort, but light. By regarding the
whole course of things as a method of instruction, we may
learn how to construct our own methods. Life, considered
as a school, becomes a model for our schools. Regard
yourselves as standing in the midst of a vast system of
spiritual influence, and then if you would reach the minds
and mould the characters of others, the true ways of achiev-
ing these aims are indicated by the analogy of nature and
Providence. The influence of the human teacher, to be
effectual, must be kindred to tise influence of the great In-
visible Instructer. In the great common school of human
life, how is it that men are most powerfully moved, most
thoroughly taught? This is the grand question, upon
finding the true answer to which, the wisdom and success
o[ our (nodes of education nmst depend. I am not so pre-
sumptuous as to attempt a complete reply to this question.
There is one consideration, however, to whii;h I would ask
your particular notice. There is one feature of the great
syste.'u of nature which appears to me to throw much light
on the business of education. I will endeavor to describe
it.
It may be set down, I think, as characteristic of the most
vital and active influences of nature and providence, that
they are precisely those influences in which there is the
least appearance of a design upon us, — where there is no
view to efl'ect apparent. It is common to call the mani-
festations of wisdom and love in the universe, displays, ex-
hibitions, as if they were got up with reference to spectators
— solely to make us wonder and gaze and feel. Viewed
simply as displays having this end, I do not say that they
are wholly without effect. They create amazement and
awe. But the beauty and harmony of the material world
b MR FURNESSS
penetrate us most deeply ; ihey go clown thrillingly into
the lowest depths of our hearts, when they are seen and
felt to be the sincere and irrepressible outpourings of an
inexhaustible fulness. It is not the express provisions made
for my subsistence that read me the most touching lessons
of divine love. But it is the deep joy which the all-present
Spirit seems everywhere to be taking in his own works,
that awakens our holiest and most generous sensibilities.
The gorgeous flowers that are blooming in unvisited nooks
and impenetrable wildernesses — the " rainbow colored
shells" strewed at the bottom of the sea — the irregular
magnificence of the sunset sky, apparently so accidental —
the thronging forms of life and grandeur, that fill all the
heights and depths of creation — it is these things, and such
as these, that affect us most poweriully, and call forth our
divinest emotions. For they reveal a spirit giving itself
forth from its own infinite love of life and goodliness, and
not for any finite purpose, "any end that the understanding
can estimate. When we come upon some sublime scene
in nature, it is not the consideration that this sublimity has
been prepared solely for us and other created beings like
us, — a mere spectacle, to whose Author all its grandeur is
a matter of indifference or contempt, — this is not the
affecting thought. Our highest pleasures, our strongest
emotions do not result from any reference to self, any con-
sideration of our own interests. Besides, it cannot possi-
bly be that the perception of a design to gratify and elevate
us, is the chief source of the pleasure we take in the beau
ties of nature ; because we could never even suspect such
a design, if we were not first gratified and impressed. It
must be something else, something antecedent to every
selfish reference, which affects us in the sublime and beau-
tiful scenes of the natural world. And this, I say it is, the
felt presence of a power, a mind, a spirit, cherishing sublim-
ity and beauty in infinite and eternal love, moved to un-
wearied and ever-varying activity, by its own force and
joyous nature ; never, properly speaking, studying efl^ect,
but always producing the greatest efl^ect, because it loves
the true and beautiful with a perfect love, which in so do-
ing, it communicates and inspires. It is not, if 1 may so
speak, the divine mind, but the divine heart of the universe
that touches our hearts, and through them reaches and ex-
INTRODUCTORY LECTURE. - 7
ercises the intellectual faculties. In fact, in all the richest
influences of nature, there is revealed a sort of undesign-
edness, an intense, uncalculating, unbounded love of truth,
beauty and good.
My meaning is more strikingly illustrated in society —
in the action of mind upon mind — in those influences dis-
persed by the great Teacher through human instrumentality.
And here we find that the real instructers of mankind have
seldom been its professed instructers. Or if they have
formally assumed the office of instruction, still in all that
they have said and done, there has been expressed an in-
spiration, an enthusiasm, a force produced not from with-
out, by the prospect of effects and consequences, but sup-
plied from a deep and living fountain within. In all ages,
the poets have been the true teachers of the world. Nay,
their influence has transcended the imperfect offices of in-
struction, and they have been the spiritual creators of our
race, producing the feeling, creating the taste by which
their immortal works have been appreciated. How fully
was the truth which I would now unfold, recognised by
him who cared not what the laws were, or rather by whom
they were made, if he could only have the making of the
songs and ballads of the people. And poetry in all its forms
possesses the power, because it is the expression of an in-
ward life, the product, not of the understanding, weighing
consequences, but of the heart, bursting with a sense of the
infinite worth and unspeakable loveliness of the true and
beautiful, — ever prompting it to exclaim, " let me utter my-
self, or let me die!" And so the successful teachers of
science and philosophy have always been those who have
shown themselves passionate, devoted lovers of science and
philosophy, studying what they taught, not because it was
profitable to themselves or useful to others, but because
they loved'\X, — men who, if the destruction of the world had
been impending, would, like the ancient geometrician, have
begged a respite only until they had completed the solution
of an interesting problem.
When we turn to ordinary life, we find a partial acknow-
ledgement of the truth in the proverb — "Example is better
than precept." Better ! There is no sort of con)parison.
That is a wise saying, derived from a higher authority,
" The letter killeth, the spirit giveth life." The mere pre-
8 MR FURNESS'S
cept is dead and death-producing; but every act done not
for effect, not for example's sake, but from an inward im-
pulse, is in a sense spiritual, living and life-giving. Not
the long and formal lesson, but the brief and accidental
exclamation, the deed or word, be it good or bad, which
is the expression of something within, a symbol of spirit, —
this it is that teaches, — that forms the manners and moulds
the character and extends its influences to the minutest
details — to the very modes of speech. A child maybe
initiated in all the rules of grammar — the mysteries of
parsing, but it is the forms of expression, with which he is
familiar at home — the language which is used there, to
embody thought and feeling, in their ordinary varieties — this
it is that has signification and propriety in his ears
and this he will continue to employ, in the face of all in-
struction, until new and better and genuine examples are
set before him.
My meaning is misunderstood if it be supposed that I
am going the length of discouraging all direct attempts
whatever at education. I do not wish to authorize any
such inference. But I do wish to make prominent a truth
which seems to me of the greatest importance, a truth
which appears sometimes to be wholly forgotten and never
to have been fully acknowledged, and which there is much
at the present day that tends to keep in the back ground.
Expressed in the simplest terms, it is briefly this — He
who undertakes to teach, must first love that which he
teaches. He must show that he has at heart the living
sense of an absolute good and that it is this that inspires
all his aims and directs all his efforts. The importance of
this truth to the religious teacher is obvious enough. He may
help to circulate the phraseology and preserve the forms of
religion, but he cannot communicate the life thereof, unless
it is a living object to his own affections. He must love it
for itself if he hopes to enthrone it in the hearts of others.
But the case is the same whatever the influence we would
exert, religious, moral or intellectual. There must be life in
our endeavors, the life of love.
I have just intimated that there is much at the present
day to render us insensible to the truth I have sought to
elucidate. The exceeding facility of publication, bringing
home to us the affairs of nations, the concerns of commu-
INTRODUCTORY LECTURE. ^ 9
nities, the greatest and most remote, has broken into the
heaven-visited cell of contemplation, and called us all out
of doors. Our public and political relations have been
placed in a noonday light, and whereas in ancient times,
the labor was to become known, now it is seclusion that is
almost impossible ; the holy mount of meditation, whereon
the human spirit was wont to be transfigured, has become
the mountain of temptation, where we are shown all the
kingdoms of the earth, or it is deserted ; we all stand lining
the highways, on which the mighty interests of society
are winding onward to a grand consummation. Con-
sequently, we are busily watching the course of things and
looking eagerly for results, and thus an undue regard to
consequences, — a feverish anxiety about effects has been
produced. We are studying the enginery of government,
the mighty machines of social order. This influence bears
with a great pessure upon us of this country, where every
individual is told by ten thousand voices that he is a part
of the social system of things, part of a form of govern-
ment continually denominated an experiment ! and so,
be he high or low, ignorant or wise, he is thinking, more,
so far as he thinks at all, how to form or rather reform a
nation than to reform himself. Every man is made to
feel as if the collected interests of society were in his
hands. It is true the individual is connected by imperish-
able ties, not only with society as it exists now and here,
not only with this age, but witli all ages and all nations
and all worlds, with immensity and eternity. Still it is
obvious that his attention may be so exclusively engaged
with these vast and imposing relations, that his personal
energies may be wholly overlaid, and he may forget that if
he exists for society, so does society exist for him. Thus,
I fear, it is to a great extent with us. The well being of
society, the public welfare, this is our main object, and we
esteem all things, religion, knowledge and virtue, purely as
means to this end. Intellectual good is recognised as
good only in its relations to political prosperity and social
order. How little feeling is there of its intense and abso-
lute worth ! Accordingly education among us has some-
times been defined to be not the unfolding of immortal
spirits capable of illimitable expansion, but the manu-
facture of" American citizens. Individually and by count-
10 MR FURNESS-S
less associations we are zealously [jrofessing a great tlesire
to do good. This is a plausible profession, but it seems to
me that we often delude ourselves by it. I confess I
cannot understand how any man can heartily and effect-
ually desire, by the diffusion of knowledge, for instance,
to do good to others, unless he has a distinct, positive,
living sense of the worth of knowledge. We cannot
wisely aim at the general happiness, until we have discov-
ered the true elements of happiness in our own nature, and
tried them by our own experience.
In this state of things, education is too much regarded
as a method merely of producing certain political, general
results, not very well defined — as "a secure, straight
forward business," I use the phrase of another, " to be
conducted in the gross with such intellect as comes to
hand," — not unfrequently as a capital resort for those
who have fallen into adverse circumstances and must live,
and whose failure as teachers is scarcely possible, if they
can only provide themselves with rooms of due size and
the best apparatus. The wotk is thought to be done and
well done when that amount of knowledge has been im-
parled which fits the individual for a place in the great
social machine, which is in full experiment, as if any
amount of knowledge of mere intellectual acquisitions,
however great, constituted the truly educated man. The
sum of human knowledge at the largest, how small ! And
even if we could impart to an individual all learning and
science, he might after all be only a reformed barbarian at
best. For education is not a heaping upon but a bringing
out. It is not an overlaying of the mind with that which
may prove a burthen to crush, or an ornament for self-
display, or an instrument of deep and extensive mis-
chief. Treasures of knowledge, like treasures of silver and
gold in the hands of him who discerns not their intrinsic
worth but only their worldly uses, become the means of
self-degradation and of general injury. Education has
acco nplished nothing — it is nothing, until it has awakened
the spirit of knowledge — the intellectual craving of the
mind. " It is not the possession of truth," as it has been
wisely said, " it is not the possession of truth, but the
desire of truth that profits." The desire of truth — the
love of knowledge, thnt holy spirit which leads into the
INTRODUCTORY LECTURE. 11
way of all truth. Growing by what it feeds on — inflamed
by gratification, it gathers wisdom under the greatest dis-
advantages, creates means for itself in the most unj)ropi-
tious circumstances, and is the prophecy and the pledge of
everlasting growth.
Now all genuine love of knowledge is given by inspira-
tion. It cannot be manufactured by any machinery of
means however expensive and ingenious. It must be
caught from hearts in which it already lives, and he who
thinks to diffuse it, must first be filled with it to overflowing.
A man may be possessed of many amiable and respectable
qualities, but, as a teacher, he is nought, and his failure must
in no degree surprise us, if he pursues the business of in-
struction from no hearty spiritual impulse, but solely for
the sake of a subsistence, or some such worldly end, his
own ease, assuming perhaps the sacred chair of instruction
only because it is cushioned all round. He still teaches,
it is true, but not that lesson which he thinks to teach.
He cultivates in others only that worldly spirit which he
cultivates in his own soul. He enlightens them in the
popular science of taking care of oneself, and he gives no
intimation that intellectual cultivation is at all desirable,
save as it may be made to minister to comfort or respecta-
bility. As to the purposes of true culture, he is but a
curious piece of mechanism grinding out the dead letter.
All teachers, in whatever departments they labor, must
have spiritual minds. That is, they must recognise in the
knowledge which they endeavor to impart, an intrinsic
worth far exceeding all its temporal uses. They must
have at heart objects infinitely nobler and more precious
than those which engage the generality of men, riches,
honor and self indulgence. They must take up the cause
of knowledge as a personal affair, and show that they have
been baptized in the love of moral and intellectual truth.
The office of instruction yet lacks its rightful honor.
There is a general and increasing disposition to afford
teachers the most liberal pecuniary support, still they do
not hold their true place, than which none is higher in
society. Many a parent will pay money without stint or
reluctance to an instructer of his children, with whom he
thinks it would be demeaning himself to cultivate any but
the most formal acquaintance. How can he hope that his
12 MR FL'RKESSS LECTURE.
children will honor one whom he himself does not care lo
honor ? To mould the mind of a child, the indispensable
preliminary is to gain his confidence. And how, generally
speaking, can this be speedily and efiectually done, except
through parental influence and example ? Children always
respect those whom they find their parents respect. And
if these last are willing, as is too often the case, to remain
strangers to those to whom they commit the culture of
their oflTspring, how seriously is the teacher's prospects of
success overcast ! In this case I know not where the
remedy lies, unless in the hands of teachers themselves.
They must command the reverence which is their due, and
for the absence of which no pecuniary aid can be any sort
of compensation. They must command the homage of
society by the manifestations of that lofty, unworldly spirit
of which I have spoken. They must live and move and
have their being in a high, intellectual atmosphere, far
above the coarse excitements of earthly aims and passions.
Their ambition must be dead to the common objects of
human pursuit, and they must be all alive to those things
which are infinitely better. Theirs must be a pure, spirit-
ual principle of action, and then will they teach with a
power of which now we do but dream, awakening the
inmost life of the mind and moulding its immortal essence
into a similitude of God.
LECTURE I.
THE STUDY OF THE CLASSICS.
BY A. CROSBY
i
ON THE STUDY OF THE CLASSICS.
The subject upon which I have the honor to address
you, by the invitation of your Committee, is " The Study
of the Classics." You will not wonder, that I have found
great difficulty in determining upon what points of so
extensive a subject I should touch, in the short time I
might think it proper for me to occupy. Since the receipt
of the letter of your respected Secretary, I have been like
a painter sent to visit the romantic scenery of my native
State — the American Switzerland — and bring back a
sketch, and but a single sketch, of its sublime or beautiful,
for the gallery of your Atheneum. He receives the com-
mission, sure that no task could be easier, as well as none
more delightful. He hurries to the Lakes; he ascends the
hill-tops that overlook them ; he sails among the woody
isles that stud their waters ; and, as he stops to take a
hasty view of this or that scene, fancies himself in fairy
land. But ere he has half exhausted the beauties of the
lovely Winnepisseogee, or its miniature by its side, he
must tear hiiuself away for the wilder and grander scenery
of Coos. He climbs Mount Washington. He gazes upon
the ocean of Mountains at his feet. He looks abroad to
take in the vast panorama, that surrounds him. But we
cannot follow him through his tour. Many a time, as a
new view opens upon him, does he say, " Here is the scene
I came in quest of." Many a time does the pencil drop
from his unconscious hands, as he stands wrapped in admi-
ration. He prolongs his stay to the utmost limits. He
returns with his portfolio — tlie painter's cotfers — full to
the overflowing, congratulating himself that his work is
-^
16 aiR CROSBYS LECTURE.
nearly done. But now comes the difficulty. From these
he must select one, and only one, for painting. He turns
over leaf after leaf; — it must be this — and this — and
this ; he has selected not one, but a score ; he turns back
again ; he gazes on each of his favorites ; and his mind is
transported to the mountains and valleys, the rocks, glens,
cascades, islets, — all the grand, picturesque and beautiful
he has just left. He feels not altogether unlike the mother
whose tears have procured the life of one of her sons, con-
demned by the tyrant for their patriotic valor, and who
must make a selection. As the time of exhibition draws
near, his indecision still increases, till at last in despair, he
c itches some wild sketch that happens to lie near him, and
hurries all the rest into a drawer, that their sight may no
longer perplex. He carries his prainting to the Gallery ;
but, as he is suspending it, he sighs at the thought, how
many a loftier and brighter scene he has left unpainted.
Such has been the cojirse of my thoughts, in the attempt
to execute the task assigned me. With similar feelings
have I prepared and brought the simple sketch which I
would now hang in this gallery of intellectual paintings.
The low state of classic acquisition in our country has
been often deplored ; and especially by those, who have
themselves seen in other countries the invaluable results of
a far higlier, though yet not perfect state. It has seemed
to me that one great cause, perhaps I might say the funda-
mental cause, of this low state of classic attainment on this
side of the Atlantic, is the general want of a clear appre-
hension of the true value of the Classics, and of the use
which should be made of them in a liberal education.
Those of us who are engaged in the business of instruction,
are obliged to regret continually the difficulty we find, in
attempting to give to those whom we teach, correct views
upon this subject ; and we have all seen in the crude dis-
cussions upon Classical Learning, lamentable proofs, that
ignorance and misapprehension are not confined to the
young. With many, the study of the Classics seems to be
merely going over a proscribed number of passages of Latin
and Greek, and assigning to each word, by the help of
Dictionary, and Grammar, and Notes, and ofttimes Trans-
lation, a corresponding word in English. No wonder they
OiN THE STUDY OF THE CLASSICS. IT
find little intellectual discipline or cultivation in this me-
chanical joining of word with word. Others enlarge the
idea, so that it comprehends an ability to read and inter-
pret a particular course of ancient authors. Others go still
farther, and require an acquaintance with the minutiae of
the Greek and Latin languages. A few add an exact
knowledge of History and Antiquities. And there are
those who do not regard the study as complete, until there
is a perception of the distinguishing characteristics of ihe
several authors, of the excellences of their matter, and
the beauties of their style. But how very small the num-
ber who rise to this standard of classical attainment! while
even this, our Ultima Thulc, comes very far short of the
just idea of the study of the Classics.
What is a Classic? The term is generally applied to
the splendid remains of Greek and Roman Literature; but
it should be by no means confined to them. The term
simply denotes an author or composition of the first class
for literary merit, (dassical from classis), of established
reputation, as a standard, a model. There are Italian, and
French, and English, as well as Greek and Roman Classics.
The last are the species of a great genus. Hence, as by
the rules of logic the definition of the species includes
that of the genus, before we can determine what is the
proper study of the Ancient Classics, we must investigate
the general question, " How should a Classic in any lan-
guage be studied ?" The general principles of Classic
study (if we may use this term in an extended sense for
the study of Classic authors in any language) having been
fixed, the application to any particular language or author
cannot be difficult ; till this is done, wc are endeavoring to
measure the heavenly bodies, and calculate their movements,
without a knowledge of geometry. There are in literature
as well as in science, great general paths entirely indepen-
dent of time, place, and person, and all those judgments
respecting particulars which arc not connected with these,
want that demonstrative character, which is requisite to
satisfy a man of philosophic spirit. The fundamental in-
quiry, then, upon the subject before us, and that to which
alone we shall be able now to give any special attention, is
this : " What is comprised in the stucJi/ of a Classic?^*
This is a question of equal interest and importance to
3
i
18 MR CROSBY'S LECTURE. >Vv
him who cultivates ancient learning; to the student of
modern continental literature ; and to him who confines
his studies to the Classics of our own language. The study
of Homer, of Tasso, and of Milton is essentially the same ;
and so of Sophocles, of Schiller and of Shakspeare ; of
Demosthenes, of Chatham, and of Webster.
Let us suppose, then, that one of the great compositions
of ancient, middle, or modern times is before us — what does
the study of it involve ?
It is obvious, in the first place, that we must fully
and exactly ascertain its meaning. This is often an
intellectual work of no slight complexity. We must
first acquaint ourselves with the force of each separate
word, and must then learn its relations to the other words
in its sentence. From this we must rise to a perception of
the higher relations subsisting between the different sen-
tences of a paragraph. By a still greater effort of mind,
we must discover the connexion of paragraph with para-
graph ; and the work is not complete till we have expanded
the mind to a comprehension of the great relations of the
larger divisions of the discourse, of section to section, or
book to book, or act to act. When this is done, the
author is understood. For the mind now takes in at a
single glance the whole composition, as the eye does a
picture which it has examined in every part ; it sees each
part distinctly, for it has studied it separately, and sees
each, not as an isolated fragment, but as contributing to
one grand effect. The unity of general impression is now
perfectly consistent vvith the individual and peculiar effect
of every particular. And may we not stop to observe that
through all this work, the mind is continually improving,
both in critical exactness and philosophic comprehension ;
it is both laying a deeper foundation, and raising its struc-
ture higher and higher. It is swelling to receive the many,
and strengthening to make the many one.
This work of ascertaining the meaning of a Classic,
varies in its difficulty and precise method, according to the
language and character of the composition. If it is written
in common modern English, the mind recognises every
word as familiar, and needs no labor to determine their
individual significations. The works of Shakspeare de-
mand the occasional use of a glossary. Chaucer, " that
ON THE STUDY OF THE CLASSICS. 19
deep well of poesy," presents to us many a stranger.
When we go into another language, we are introduced to
a new race of words, which we must learn, in all their
various affinities and habits. This requires much use of
the Dictionary and Grammar. Thus various is the effort
required for the first step, — the knowledge of individual
words. No less various are the requisitions of the second
step, — the combination of the words in each sentence, so
as to form the complete idea. This is often done intui-
tively. But if the ideas of the author have an unusual
loftiness, or depth, or comprehensiveness, it may require
an effort for the mind to embrace them. If the style has
peculiarities, either from the individual characteristics of
the author's mode of thought or expression, or from the
idioms of an age or nation different from our own, these
may require special labor in investigation. The relations
between sentence and sentence, or paragraph and para-
graph, are more or less obvious, according to the nature of
the composition. If it is mere narrative, and the relation
is simply one of succession, the mere child readily appre-
hends it. If, on the other hand, the relation is one of
premise and consequence, or one of tlie still more abstruse
relations which are found in argumentative discourse, it
may require an intellectual effort little short of that which
framed, to comprehend. And what shall we say of the
still more subtile, the ethereal threads which bind together
the fancies of the muse ? These can be seen only when
the sensibilities have been awakened, and the taste culti-
vated.
But a knowledge of the language in which the Classic is
written, and a close application of the mind in some of its
highest exercises, the perception of relations, and the com-
bination of particulars, is not all that is requisite for a full
understanding of many authors. Words do not convey
ideas ; they only call Mp, for new combinations, ideas before
existing in the mind of the hearer or reader. If, then, we
have not the same elementary ideas with the speaker or
writer, his words, although in themselves familiar, will be
to us utterly devoid of meaning. Again, all speaking or
writing supposes some degree of preparatory knowledge in
those who hear or read, if we have not this knowledge, it
is in vain that we give the strictest attention. The con-
^
550 MR CROSBYS LECTURE.
ductor is wanting, without which the electric spark cannot
pass. Who could understand one of Cicero's political
Orations, without an acquaintance with Roman History ?
or a Satire of Juvenal's, without a knowledge of the nrian-
ners of the Imperial City ? or the Odes of Coleridge, with-
out some acquaintance with that philosophy which was
inwrought into all his trains of thought? or the Childe
Harold of Byron without some information respecting that
sad life, of which it is the melancholy, and in its fearful
distinctness, scarcely emblematic picture ? It is, then,
often essential, and always advantageous, that we should
know the history and customs of the age and nation to
which an author belongs ; the religion, the government, the
arts, sciences, occupation, and manners of the people for
whom he wrote ; and respecting the author individually,
that we should learn his life, character, pursuits, opinions,
and tastes, and that preparatory to the study of any com-
position of his, we should inform ourselves particularly of
the circumstances in which it was prepared, the objects it
was designed to accomplish, as well as its actual results, t:
How much I may have omitted, that belongs to the work
of understanding a Classic, is for others to say, rather than
myself No pne will charge me with having introduced,
in the desire of magnifying a department of study, more
than clearly belongs to it. And no candid mind can see
what it comprehends, without a sense of its dignity. For
if the study of the relations which subsist between the
various forms of matter is well fitted to discipline the mind,
how invaluable must be the discipline derived from a proper
study of the higher and more complex relations which
subsist between the forms of mind itself, — the thoughts
and feelings of the immortal spirit. And if the acquisition
of any kind of information is an enlargement of the intel-
lect, what kind can be found more expanding, or even
more practical, than that which is obtained in the study of
the Classics ? information respecting man in all his history,
private and public ; respecting his character, pursuits,
attainments, connexions, works ; all that incites him to
action, and all that directs, accompanies, and results from
his action ? information respecting ourselves, and all about
us, as related to ourselves.
But, great as the work is, of understanding a Classic
ON THE STUDY OF THE CLASSICS. 21
author, and invaluable as is the discipline and enlarge-
ment of mind acquired by it, this is but a part, and
the lowest part, of the study of a Classic. A second
and a higher work of the student, is to catch the spirit
of the author whose works he is perusing. He should
have a communion, lively and deep-fielt, with the
mighty genius, into whose presence he is admitted. Mere
understanding is but lifeless. It may be as perfect as the
keenest perception and most accurate comparison can
make it, and yet the soul seems to be, in a sense, passive
in it all. It is but receiving the impression of another's
thoughts. The impression may be perfect. The mind
may be moulded into an exact image of the most splendid
production of genius the world has ever seen ; and yet, if
the work goes no farther, it is but a cold inanimate image,
— mere clay, — shaped most exquisitely, it is true ; still
but mere clay, and fit only to be placed as a copy in the
Museum of Literature. Alas that so many such copies
should stand there ! and that they should have been so
often the only results of so much study of the Classics !
Among the host of classical commentators, the most dili-
gent of students, we seem ofttimes to be standing in the
fancied city of the dead. What wonderful forn)s about us !
What nobleness of stature ! What perfection of symmetry I
But can those limbs move ? Can those eyes sparkle ? Can
those lips speak ? With what a sense of desolation do we
turn away our eyes from this scene of death. The figure
may be a strong one ; but is none too strong, to express
that destruction of the living energies of the immortal
spirit, which comes from making study merely the effort to
understand the thoughts, and gather the knowledge of
others.
But when the student has worthier views of the dignity
of study, and rises from understanding a Classic, to the
higher attainment of imbibing its spirit, then the image
becomes instinct with life. We have a realization of the
fable of Prometheus. The clay, animated by a spark of
celestial fire, lives, moves, feels, utters. The student does
not now merely receive the impress of another mind, but
has come into a state of active communion with that mind.
There is a glowing sympathy. His whole soul is roused
to action, in unison with the author whose works he is
S§i MR CROSBY'S LECTURE.
reading. As he reads he anticipates. And when the
writing stops, his mind still runs on. He adds new senti-
ments, new arguments, new illustrations. He becomes in
imagination the bard or the orator ; and is himself striking
his lyre before chieftains, or addressing a Roman Senate,
or with death at the door reasoning on the immortality of
the soul. And it is no exaggeration to say, that he may
thus become at length, in all except originality, another
Homer, or Cicero, or Socrates.
We have a fine illustration of the two stages of study
we have mentioned, in the celebrated Wythenbachs' studies.
After a statement of his first acquisitions, he proceeds : " I
then took up Demosthenes. 1 had an edition of the Greek
text only, accompanied with the Greek notes of Wolfius.
Alas ! darkness itself. But I hacj learned not to be de-
terred on the first approach, and I persevered. I found
greater difficulties than ever, both in the words and the
extent of the orator's propositions ; but at last, after much
labor, I reached the end of the first Olynthiac. I then
read it a second and third time, when everything appeared
clear, but still I found nothing of those powers of eloquence
of which we hear so much. I doubted at this lime whether
I should venture upon another of his orations, or should
review again the one I had just read. 1 decided,, however,
to review it ; and (how wonderful are the effects of this
practice, which can never be sufficiently recommended) as
I read, a new and unknown feeling took possession of my
mind. Hitherto in reading the Greek authors, I had expe-
rienced only that pleasure which arose from understanding
their meaning and the subjects discussed by them, and
from observing my own proficiency. But in reading De-
mosthenes, an unusual and more than human emotion per-
vaded my mind, and grew stronger and stronger upon each
successive perusal. I could now see the orator at one
time all ardor ; at another, in anguish ; and at another,
borne away by an impulse which nothing could resist.
And as I proceed, the same ardor begins to be kindled
within myself, and I am carried away by the same impulse.
I feel a greater elevation of soul ; I am no longer the same
man ; I fancy that I am Demosthenes himself, standing
before the assembly, delivering this oration, and exhorting
the Athenians to emulate the bravery and the glory of their
ON THE STUDY OF THE CLASSICS. 23
ancestors ; and now I can no longer read the Oration
silently, as at first, but aloud ; to which I am insensibly
impelled by the strength and fervor of the sentiments, as
well as by the power of oratorical harmony."
Of the two methods, as impersonated, perhaps we can-
not give better examples than Bentley and Gray ; and we
may compare them not only in their study of the ancient
Classics, in which they were both pre-eminent, in their dif-
ferent methods, but in what would be perhaps more gener-
ally obvious, in their study of the English Homer. That
both understood him, we cannot doubt ; but the result of
Bentley's study we see in his trifling notes and frigid emend-
ations ; while that of Gray's shines forth in a burst of
poetic eloquence, not surpassed by any single passage of
Milton himself:
" Nor second he who rode sublime,
On seraph wings of ecstasy,
The secrets of the abyss to spy.
He passed the flaming bounds of space and time,
The living throne, the sapphire blaze,
Where angels tremble as they gaze —
He saw, but blasted with excess of light,
Closed his eyes in endless night."
The crowning work of him who would profit in the
highest degree by the study of the Classics, is yet to be
mentioned. The student having ascertained the meaning
and caught the spirit of his author, should not stop here ;
but, as the third and noblest part of the study of a Classic,
should proceed to discover the great principles of reason -i
and taste upon which its excellences are founded. This is / ^
essential in order that he may rise himself nearer to perfec-
tion, and discharge the obligations which rest with unques-
tionable weight upon those of the present generation.
We live in a day of peculiar advantages. The collected
wisdom of more than half a century of centuries is our
birthright. Almost two hundred generations have toiled
for us, to subdue the earth, to conquer the beasts of the
forest, to unite man in society, to found civil institutions,
to discover the arts of life, to bring out the elements of
science, to strengthen the reason, refine the taste, and
develope all the energies of the soul. We enter at once
into their labors, and stand at the beginning of our career,
^ MR CROSBY'S LECTURE.
upon the proud height which the most powerful intellects
did but attain at the close of theirs. The science of As-
tronomy ?nay furnish an illustration. The observations of
ancient astronomers raised Copernicus to a height from
which he could catch a glance of the true Solar System.
On his discoveries, Kepler built his Laws of Planetary
Motion. On these Newton raised his sublime doctrine of
universal gravitation ; and on this La Place has elevated
the science to his Mecanique Celeste. The great Astron-
omer of the nineteenth century will commence where La
Place has finished. Whereunto this Newton of futurity
will attain, is known only to Him who " alone spreadeth
out the heavens," who " maketh Arcturus, Orion, Pleiades
and the chambers of the South."
Such has been the progress of the intellect in pliysical
science. Such our advantages for its prosecution. Simi-
lar, though less obvious, has been the advance of that
higher science whose subject is man himself, and whose
expression constitutes literature. In this, as in natural
science, one giant mind after another has piled Pelion on
Ossa, and on these mountain after mountain still, and we
are placed upon the summit, that thence we may reach the
heavens. And shall it be in vain that we stand there ?
Shall the present generation — on a height once scarce
dreamed of by the most sanguine aspirants, with all the
excitements that the view below, around, above, can give —
lie down to sleep ? If so, the history of this era of civiliza-
tion is written. On such a height we can slumber but to
fall. Another dark age succeeds ; there must be another
nlglit — how terrible its gloom after so bright a day ; and
then another dawning and another day, before man can
make a farther advance. There are those that forebode
this. They may be right ; but I cannot believe it. Even
if so, we have only to say, in the words of our eloquent
countryman, the same who delivered the first address
before this body, — "God grant that we may throw our
selves into this Thermopylaj of the moral universe."
But no — we must go on. I cannot believe that this age
will prove so recreant, as to begin the career of degeneracy.
The signs of the time seem to mc to indicate, that ere long,
and in our own country too, will be another great devel-
oyjCiuent of literature, though its precise form we cannot
ON THE STUDY OF THE CLASSICS. 25
now predict. Who will be its Homer, or its Demosthenes,
or its Shakspeare? Perhaps one of our own pupils. Let
us have such an elevation of soul, and enlargement of mind,
as will make us worthy of the honor. Let us not consent
to the gloomy thought, that there can be nothing better
than has been already written, that the human mind must
now retrograde and that the only effort of the student of the
great productions of past intellect, is to understand and
admire and imitate. There seems to be in some an im-
pression about the cycles of literature hke that among so
many nations respecting the eras of human existence, that
first came a golden age, when all was valuable and splendid,
an age of perfection. Next appeared the silver, as much
inferior, as this metal to gold. Next the brazen, and now
at last has come the iron, in which we live, and even we
are not stationary, for the process of degeneracy is still
going on. The Grecian era was the age of gold : the
Latin of silver : the era of the first developement ot
modern literature the brazen. Alas for us ! What can
our iron intellects produce ? There may be much in these
views of poetry. But it is the poetry of death. It is the
melancholy strain of the despairing bard, who strikes his
harp amid the ruins of his country and then resolves not
to survive her fate. But though there may be much of
poetry in these views there is very little of philosophy.
Philosophy, as well as Christianity, has her millennium and
the light we see in the East, though yet faint and with
many a mist about it, is so rapidly growing brighter, that
we cannot mistake in supposing it the dawning of this day
of glory. The question now comes " What shall we
further do to fulfil our high destiny." It is evident that
we must first have understood the mighty efforts of past
genius, and have caught their impulse. But if we yield
ourselves entirely to the influence of those who have gone
before us, it is impossible that we should rise above
them. The cast cannot be larger than its mould : the
copy cannot be more perfect than its original. So if the
student of the Classics makes any single author, or number
of authors an absolute standard, and looks no higher, it is
impossible that he should produce anything more excel-
lent unless indeed the production of the highest and most
complicated kind of excellence be a work of chance, and
4
26 MR CROSBY'S LECTURE.
in all probability he confines himself, through life to a
far inferior station. He that would accomplish anything
for the advance of mind, must look upon nothing already
accomplished, as perfect. We must add to the elemen-
tary parts of the study of the Classics, a third and far more
elevated part, the object of which is to obtain from the
contemplation and comparison of the excellences of partic-
ular authors, a correct ideal of absolute excellence. What
is the primary source of this ideal, is one of the important
subjects in dispute between the two great sects in philoso-
phy, which have divided the world from the days of Thales
and Pythagoras to the present day ? You will not of
course ask me to decide a question, even if it were of
greater practical consequence, on the different sides of
which are such names as Plato and Kant, and Aristotle
and Locke. Nor can it be asked that I should point out
the precise method, in which it is to be observed, for it
would be presumption in me to pretend to anything more
than to be myself in quest of it. I must rather ask than
give directions. That there is such an ideal within the
reach of the human intellect, seems to me. almost an
axiom. It is equally plain, that there can be no higher
exercise of the powers than the effort to gain it ; that its
attainment must be the proudest conquest of the mind.
With this ideal before us, we should as a second step in
this part of our progress go back and re-examine the
authors from a study of whom we rose to this ideal. Now
j- we are prepared for criticism and not until now. He that
knows what literary excellence is, can say, and he only,
how much has been attained by a particular author. He
that knows the laws of composition, can say, and he only,
how far those laws have been observed, and in what vio-
lated. It is wonderful how many have presumed to criti-
cise, without even having any definite standard in their
own minds. Criticism then becomes caprice. The judge
is giving sentences of life or of death, without even a defi-
' nite idea of the principles involved in the case. But
criticism upon correct principle is in the highest degree
serviceable to the student. By application he tests his
principles, by exercise he perfects his taste and judgment,
and gains that ready discernment and nice discrimination,
which such exercise only can give. He now analyses
those productions which before as wholes commanded his
ON THE STUDY OF THE CLASSICS. 27
admiration, but which were, like all the works of man,
but combinations of good and ill, with a greater proportion
of good than is found in most. He marks the good, and
yields himself unreservedly to its influence. He distin-
guishes the ill, and seeks to counteract the influence it may
have already exerted. In that practical spirit which is the
characteristic of the highest study, he proceeds still farther.
He sees how the excellences of the author were attained,
for direction in his own efforts to attain the same. He
looks for the causes of the defects which he finds, that he
may prevent in himself the operation of those causes. This
is true criticism, and if there is nothing meaner than the
counterfeit, what is there nobler than the genuine ?
The student having now separated beauty from deform-
ity, and truth from error, should henceforth }ield himself
to the full influence of truth and beauty, both in their ideal
perfection, and in those actual exhibitions which the Classics
furnish. Error and deformity, he should not only disap-
prove, but keep out of sight. They are malignant stars,
to whose rays he cannot expose himself without a blight.
Truth and beauty will thus enter in and make his soul their
iiome. They will be the essence of his thoughts, and the
spring of liis feelings. And the various expressions of his
thoughts and feelings, in written or in spoken discourse,
will be but manifestations of truth and beauty. This is the
true end of the study of the Classics. This is an ample
end for the studies of a life. This is an end to which the
study of the Classics is an essential means ; and this is the
only end with which the student should rest content. He
should aim at this, as he longs for sympathy with the noble
spirits who have lived before him ; as he desires to be held
in remembrance by those who will come after him ; as he
seeks to become, in the language of a recently deceased
philanthropist, "a benefactor of minds;" he should aim at
this, and nothing beneath this, as he regards the lofty
powers of his own deathless spirit, destined to open, and
open, and open, forevermore. Shall there be a canker at
the bottom of that rose just blooming for immortality? j*
An answer has now been attempted to the inquiry,
What is involved in the study of a Classic? We find that
there are three distinct and essential particulars : — I. To
acquire a full and exact understanding of the composition.
28 , MR CROSBY'S LECTURE.
2. To enter into its inmost spirit. 8. To discover the
great principles of reason and taste upon which its excel-
lences arc founded.
But this analytical study can neither be itself carried to
perfection, nor, if perfected, would it be of any practical
utility, without corresponding synthetical exercises. Anal-
ysis and synthesis are the centrifugafand centripetal forces
X which impel and direct the mind in its revolution. That
analysis is dead which does not lead to synthesis ; that
synthesis is blind, which has not the light of previous
analysis. We have but time just to mention some of the
synthetical exercises which should accompany the several
parts of the analytical study of a Classic. These exercises
may be either written or extemporaneous. As a general
rule, it is best that they should first be written, that they
may have the advantage of greater care and repeated re-
vision ; and that afterwards, when habits of strict correctness
have been formed, they should be extemporaneous, that
they may have greater spirit, and may be less restricted in
number and extent than written exercises must be.
Those exercises which correspond to the first part — the
"sC analysis of a composition to ascertain its meaning — are
translation, interpretation, condensation and paraphrase.
In the first of these, translation, the student in the person
of the author, expresses his ideas either in a different lan-
guage, or in a different style of composition in the same
language, or by different expressions in a similar style.
Thus we may translate Plato from Greek to Latin or to
English ; Thomson from poetry to prose ; and Burke from
his own splendid diction to other language, as near, and
yet different, as we can give. In the second, interpreta-
tion, we explain in our own persons the meaning oT^he
author, without paying any respect to his modes of expres-
sion. In condensation, we aim at bringing within a small
space the principal ideas which the author had spread over
a large surface, that they may be seen at once, both in
their individual importance, and in their relations to each
other. Paraphrase is the reverse, and extends the ideas
over a still greater surlace, that they may be examined more
minutely. Condensation is the camera^ gbscura, which
combines into one view upon its glass^all the striking fea-
ON THE STUDY OF THE CLASSICS. 29
tures of the landscape. Paraphrase is the microscope,
which successively and slowly examines each flower, and
insect, and mineral that is found upon a hillock in that
landscape.
The exercise that corresponds to the second part of the
study of the Classics is imitation. This may respect only
the general plan of the dfscourse, or it may extend to the /^
minutest particulars of style and language. In all its vari-
eties it is an exercise of the highest value for the forming
intellect, and should on no account be dispensed with, in
any course of education. It is absolutely essential for a
full assimilation to the mighty spirits we adopt as our
masters.
The exercise that belongs to the third and highest part /
of classical study, is composition in its purely original form. ^
The reduction of the theory of literature to practice ; the
embodying, so far as human imperfection will allow, of that
idea of perfect truth and beauty, which dwells in the soul.
In this we no longer admit any one to be our master. We
recognise only the authority of those eternal laws in litera-
ture, which are founded in the nature of the human mind.
We have now briefly considered the three great partic-
ulars embraced in the study of a Classic, and the three
kinds of practical exercise which are indispensable to the
completeness of the study ; the various forms of interpre-
tation, (for this term in its most extensive sense, will embrace
all of the first class) imitation and original composition. I
regret, gentlemen, that here the subject must be left. In-
deed, we have but just been digging to lay the corner
stone. But be it remembered, that if that corner stone
has been rightly laid, it is the foundation upon which the
study of all literature, ancient and modern, foreign and
native, must be built ; that if the principles discussed are
true, they must be practically introduced, not only into our
higher private studies, our colleges and our classical schools,
but into all those schools, whatever may be their name or
degree, even the humblest, which have for their object not
mere mechanical attainment ; but, the enlargement, disci-
pline and cultivation of the mind, or in the words of a living
poet,
" The building up the being that we are."
30 MR CROSBY'S LECTURE.
Allow me to leave the subject in your hands, in its unfin-
ished state, with the sincere request,
Si quid noris rectius istis
Candidus imperti ; si non, his utere mecum.
Permit one word of explanation. Perhaps, from the
general mode in which I have treated the subject, discuss-
ing those principles only which are common to the study
of all great compositions, in whatever language they may
have been written, some may infer, that it is my opinion
that the same improvement might be derived from the
study of the modern classics, or even of our own great
authors, as from the study of the Classics, properly so called,
the immortal monuments of ancient genius ; and that a
substitution might be made without injury in our systems
of education. I cannot now give the reasons for an opinion,
or rather, I should say, a full conviction, directly the re-
verse. And rather than add any general remarks of my
own, I will close with an extract from the very able Report
upon the State of Education in Prussia, recently made to
the French Minister of Instruction, by the most distin-
guished living philosopher, a man of equal genius, learning,
and candor, the truly great Cousin. His testimony is
the more valuable because it cannot have received a tinge
from professional predilections, and because it is his public
and responsible expression of the result of much reflection
and extensive personal observation.
" You, sire," is his language, addressing the minister,
" are suflliciently acquainted with my zeal for classical and
scientific studies ; not only do I think that we must keep
up to the plan of study prescribed in our colleges, particu-
larly the philological part of that plan, but I think we
ought to raise and extend it ; and thus while we maintain
our incontestable superiority in the physical and mathemat-
J ical sciences, endeavor to rival Germany in the solidity of
' our classical learning. Indeed, classical studies are, with-
out any comparison the most important of all ; for their
tendency and their object is the knowledge of human nature,
which they consider under all its grandest aspects ; here,
in the languages and the literature of nations which have
left indelible traces of their passage on earth ; there, in the
fruitful vicissitudes of history, constantly remodelling and
ON THE STUDY OF THE CLASSICS. 31
constantly improving the frame of society ; lastly, in philos-
ophy, which reveals the simplest elements, and the uniform
structure of that wonderful being, whose history, language
and literature successively invest with forms the most varied,
yet all connected with some part, more or less important,
of his internal constitution. Classical studies keep alive
the sacred tradition of the moral and intellectual life of the
human race. To curtail or enfeeble such studies, would
in my eyes, be an act of barbarism, a crime against all true
and high civilization, and in some sort an act of high treason
against humanity."
LECTURE II.
A PROPER EDUCATION
AN AGRICULTURAL PEOPLE.
BY SAMUEL NOTT, Jr,
i
EDUCATION FOR AN AGRICULTURAL PEOPLE.
Though I am to regard the agricultural population, I
must of course involve the principles on which all classes
are to be educated. For the points at which all men unite
are far more numerous than those at which particular
classes of men are divided. I shall not allow myself to
forget my appropriate subject, and shall as specially as
possible confine myself to it ; but I shall do my work very
badly, if with all its speciality, its great principle shall not
be found applicable to people of every class.
There is another light in which my limit seems no limit
— in which I may consider myself as speaking for the
people at large. In all countries, and especially our own,
the agricultural people is the people. Magnify as we may
each other interest, — commercial, manufacturing, — they
form but small fractions of the mass — themselves proceed-
ing from and intimately bound to the agricultural popula-
tion, and receiving their character from it. Increase our
manufactures and commerce as we must, they can never
employ a tythe of the community. Our increasing millions
must be chiefly agricultural, forming the nation, and gov-
erning the nation. Yes — governing the nation. — In all
countries, and especially our own, wei<iht is in numbers.
The agricultural population do and will, directly or indi-
rectly, govern the country. The farmers will regulate or
distract manufactures or commerce — will secure or disturb
our civil polity. If they orig[nate no governmental acts,
when they do but act or decline acting upon propositions
of good or evil, their decision forms the issue of every
proposal. If the breath, whether of patriotism or faction,
36 MR NOTT'S LECTURE.
whether of wisdom or folly, proceeds from some other
region, it blows in vain until it moves the level surface of
society. On its agitation or quiet must depend the result.
Whatever good or ill are now prevalent among us, the
agriculturists have welcomed ; whatever have been missed,
they have rejected. Whatever is to be feared or hoped
, for awaits their decision. In proportion, therefore, as we
~r- discover the just principles of education lor an agricultural
' people, do we provide for the welfare of the whole.
1 feel myself, then, entrusted with the solemn, 1 may say
sublime, duty of attempting to point out a proper educa-
tion for this great and growing people. Would that I
might be enabled to do it in such a manner as might prove
a seed of blessing for ages which are yet to come.
We must keep in view that the question before us
regards the agricultural people as a body, and of course
^ that it is not answered by any direction which goes to
(V elevate some portion of that body, whether to commercial,
' civil or literary pursuits. That is the proper education
which shall be of the greatest benefit to the mass who must
remain in the lot of their inheritance. Such an education,
no doubt, will give sufficient scope for all changes needful
to the well-being of individuals and society at large; but
our design is to provide for the mass — to exhibit the proper
education for those who remain upon the soil.
Nor is the inquiry answered by a direction for any par-
ticular period of life. Our inijuiry must not be confined
to the mere matter of early education, certainly not of
school education — an education which a Legislature can
■4 — institute, and which schools can execute ; but we must
' speak of an education which must be received and cher-
ished by the people themselves in all the stages of their
lives. No community can be properly educated, where
education is not carried forward and matured in the suc-
ceeding periods of life, where education in later does not
lead an education in earlier life, where in school and after
school it is not self-cherished and self-matured.
We cannot suggest an effectual plan for mere early
education. We must provide for the education of all ages,
in order to secure the proper education of the young.
Our design is to promote education on those broad princi-
ples which will secure it in childhood, and give it fair
EDUCATION FOR AN AGRICULTURAL PEOPLE. 31
proportion and growth and endurance in after life ; to ed-
ucate according to the ternis of our subject, not merely
the children of the people, but the people themselves. 1
shall consider a proper education (or an agricultural people
to be such as is suited to their opportunities, their condition,
and their duties.
I. A proper education for an agricultural people is one
for which they have an opportunity. It is such as they can
get. It is practicable in their lot. Of course we preclude
immediately all tliat education — be it what it may — w hich
requires childhood, or youth, or manhood to be wholly or
chiefly occupied in receiving instruction ; and we admit
only what can be obtained in the midst of bodily labor,
commencing with the early years of childhood, and abiding
until old age, under the fulfilment of the doom from which
our free institutions cannot release us — "in the sweat of
thy brow thou shalt eat bread."
Having assumed this principle, it remains to unfold, as
far as may be, the opportunities of an agricultural people.
Of all professions whose duty is bodily labor, none aff'ords
a better, probably none affords so good, an opportunity for
both early and later instruction — an opportunity which we
may hope every attempt to unfold may make" to be better
improved.
So far as formal arrangement is concerned, the common
school system, where it exists in full operation, is adapted
to the people — is their proper social opportunity. A
school occupying ten or eleven months in the year — the
one half of the time under a female teacher — and designed
principally for children and the young, to aid the labors of
their parents in the house and field — the other under a
male teacher, and designed with the young especially to
afiford an opportunity, during the season of agricultural
leisure, to the elder youth, seenis to me in its arrangement
according to the employment of the people, and in iJs giv-
ing the combined advantages to the using all of male and
female influence, to be the true system.
I conceive that the subject 'assigned me grows out of a
defect of education perceived in the system as it exists ;
and the remedy proposed must be in the instituting of a
better system, or in some suggestions for the better working
of that acknowledged to bo inevitable to the employment.
3& MR NOTTS 4LECTURE.
We prefer the latter ; and we claim of course of families,
of the primary schools, of the winter schools, of society,
such an education, according to their opportunities, as will
grow and flourish though the schools be interrupted, and
when at length the grown up youth are fully engaged in
their laborious railing. Specific rules, good in specific
cases only, cannot prove a leaven for the whole mass. I
shall therefore only give the following general directions :
I . It must be, with reference to what is expected from
schools, parental. Whatever may be true as to that unnat-
ural education, which, whether from necessity in the lower
orders of towns, or from choice in the wealthy, gives chil-
dren's whole education to teachers, there is no agricultural
opportunity which can supply parental lack — none which
teaches the three or four first years on which all depends,
or supplies the inevitable intervals of schools in later years.
However difficult to secure it, the lecturer on the proper
mode must demand (whatever of the school house) cer-
tainly of the families of every district, that the teacher of
that primary school begin and cherish the education for
which they look to the school house. Such is God's
appointment for all — and above all to an agricultural
people. Our great mistake has been to overrate the com-
mon school system. A universal ad mi ration of tV has par-
alysed the parental arm, without whose aid no proper
education can be given.
2. It must regard subjects of present interest and use.
The opportunity lies greatly in this, whether of learning or
teaching : the boy has no need to lack a teacher, and the
teacher will have no uninterested scholar, when the subject,
for instance, is the bee-hive, or the poultry-yard, or the
fish-pond, or the spared bird's-nest, or the coming or gone
by menagerie. The children will not be unobserving,
whose capacity of observer is so cherished — will not hate
reading, whose reading is diverted to matters of so deep
and present an interest. New occasions will be constantly
occurring which shall promote observation and reading,
and of course a knowing and growing mind.
Nothing, perhaps, would promote observation and
thought, more than the early habit of keeping a journal of
some agricultural department. I have known children
deeply interested and greatly aided by so simple a labor as
EDUCATION FOR AN AGRICULTURAL PEOPLE 39
a journal of the poultry -yard, or the garden, or the corn-
field.
3. As far as education is prospective, it should regard
their future line of life, as laboring agriculturists.
I mean not to hinder free scope to peculiar disposition
or opportunity for other employments, but regard the
certainty that the great mass jwi/s^, and of consequence that
each individual will probably, follow, and most advanta-
geously follow the calling of his birth. This being the
true view of the case, the opportunity corresponds to the
motive and the end, and by that correspondence is increased.
The range of education in this view embraces all that is
needful in agricultural life, and all that can prepare one to v /
know or devise the best methods of doing it — a subject, /^-->.
plainly, which can only be begun in childhood or youth,
and the value of which must be manifest more and more
every step of advancement. It is scarcely possible that
preparing for practical purposes or duties that can never
be finished, that agricultural families should be much otherV
than studious — that they should do otherwise than fill up ^
their intervals of labor with profitable study. The ordinary
dulness proceeds from prospective studies for no definite
and manifest purpose, which have no proper bearing upon
their preparation for these employments. An agricultural
class book — far better than a political class book — is, I /
believe, yet a desideratum in our schools. No book could /\
be more mteresting, or would be more sure to be the man-
ual of after life, even though its possessor should become
the prisoner at last of the crowded city.
An education upon subjects of present interest and use,
and for future use in their line of life, would not only be
more sure both of teachers and scholars, but would be
more likely to be such as could be used. Alas ! what a
calamity has often occurred to the well-educated son and
daughter of the farmer, if indeed, without regard to present ^
or future use, the forms of education may have been given
them. From dear bought opportunities, and with far
fetched knowledge, they return with an education fit only
toHSe given to the winds, not to grow and thrive amidst
the demands of their calling.
4. The pursuits of the family and district must corres-
pond with the pursuits of the school.
40 31 R Norrs lecture.
If, as we have said, rural education must be in a great
degree parental, because the school opportunity has neces-
sary interruptions, then must parents and elder brothers
/ and sisters keep their own knowledge fresh and growing,
7 that they may be qualified to render household aid. Again,
if a district would have prevail a spirit of improvement
among the young, notwithstanding the hindrances peculiar
to their lot, they will not fail in their desire, if such be the
spirit of the neighborhood. Without this spirit, and the
habits to which it will give rise, not much can be hoped
for by any plans for the improvement of the people. With
the:ii, what may we not hope for, when we reflect upon
the facilities which remain amidst the toils of agricultural
life.
In the first place, on the supposition of both a compe-
tence and a spirit of improvement, what an opportunity
have parents, sweetening their own toil, to cherish various
knowledge and just principles in their children. To an
uncommon extent, their children labor with them, and in
circumstances which favor conversation. The religious
direction given to an agricultural people illustrates the
opportunity for the salutary intercourse on all subjects
which belong to their line of life, and directs how any defi-
ciency of education at the schools may be remedied by the
incidental conversation at home : " Thou shalt speak of
them to thy children when thou art sitting in the house,
and when thou art walking by the way ; when thou art
lying down, and when thou art rising up."
Again, what opportunity is furnished, both to parents
and their children, of useful reading. A book, at once use-
ful and entertaining, aids the midday rest — renders even
the season of special toil the season of improvement —
while the winter's evenings are the farmers' peculiar oppor-
tunity for gaining all wisdom and knowledge, that they
may be communicated to his children. No line of life —
certainly of a life ot labor — furnishes so fine a field for
training the minds of the people, provided only that with
schools the best that can be procured, the district pursuits
correspond.
If one phrase be given as the guide to our present
requirement, it would be — that in order to a proper agri-
cultural education, the district must have habits of reading.
EDUCATION FOR AN AGRICULTURAL PEOPLE. 41
I take it for granted that a library exists, embracing the
best writers in history, politics, morals and religion, and in
the sciences peculiarly connected with agriculture ; that all
pursue to some extent those subjects which are of common
interest, and that every one gives free scope to his own
peculiar taste, and becomes able to contribute his share to
the information of the neighborhood. Poetry especially,
deriving its beauty from the scenes of nature, and its value
from the deep philosophy which it thus adorns, cannot fail
to interest and improve such a neighborhood. Taste is
indigenous in the country ; it can, it does spring up in the
farm-house ; often, but not always, — yet so often as to
show how fitted are the works of our highest poets to rural
\ life, — producing a refinement of thought and feeling be-
yond what is always seen in the elite of city life.
The habit of reading newspapers will not answer the
purpose. I used to say in an early period of my life —
" When I have read a newspaper, I don't know anything."
In that medley reading, he who has not yet learned to select
and reject almost intuitively, who has not learned the happy
art of forgetting as well as remembering, will either gain no
knowledge, or such confused and indistinct impressions, as
are worse than ignorance — must be more and more ill
educated, the more he reads and the longer he lives. On
the other hand, in the reading of continuous works, each J
new page renders the lessons of the past more distinct and
abiding ; while the growing materials become the subject
of reflection, and the source of wisdom, and the means of
preparing the faculties for new acquisitions and new reflec-
tions. The mind thus trained will even gather much from
the newspaper itself, no longer the minister of confusion,
but aiding a well regulated mind.
I have already suggested, as a help to early education,
the keeping of a journal of some agricultural department.
It belongs to this article to require it also of the heads of
the establishment, to call for it as the custom of the dis-
trict, at once for their own benefit and as an example and
encouragement to the young. This work alone would
cultivate the habit of regular mental employment, would
exercise observation and reflection, and would while nour-
ishing every faculty furnish constant materials for improve-
ment in the occupations of rural life. If a high example
G
44 MR NOTTS LECTURE.
comes back upon my own profession, the educators, as
truly as the religious instructers of society. For so has
God ordered it, that those whom he has appointed for man's
spiritual and eternal benefit, have more than any other
profession the opportunity of cultivating the mental facul-
ties, of furnishing the growing mind and directing it to the
best methods and to the most ample stores of improvement.
Here, as in all directions, is the scriptural assurance true,
that godliness is profitable for the life that now is as well
as of that which is to come. The ministers of religion
have never been backward in the direct care of rural edu-
cation. What we here regard is the indirect service to be
rendered, by the example of a love of improvement, of
studious habits ; by their repeated applications to the pub-
lic mind in their proper calling. What range of instruc-
tion is afforded within the all-pervading principles of our
faith ! What opportunity we have of exciting inquiry, of
awakening thought, of opening new sources of improve-
ment to every person, of giving a direction to conversation
and reading.
The influence of the christian ministry in promoting a
good rural education, is aided greatly no doubt by the
social intercourse and example of a minister and his family,
when such a family is itself a specimen of the mutual im-
provement of parents and their children together, them-
selves too, aided by and aiding the neighborhood in
which Providence has cast their lot. Happy when the
clergyman's family are nobody of the country town, nor on
the other hand hunters for good society out of their usual
range ; but without refusing or disregarding the advantages
of a wider intercourse, are still lovers of their country
and find their best friends and dearest associates in the
well improved companions of their rural walks. These
aids to the education of the people, by the rural clergy,
are no doubt hindered now by their present uncertain resi-
dence and frequent removals, and can only be rendered to
the best advantage, when though change be allowed as the
exception, permanence is adopted as the rule — when the
common understanding is, that his charge is the minister's
abiding home.
Let it not be thought that we limit our claim upon rural
clergy, to their own parish boundaries. Let us rather
EDUCATION FOR AN AGRICULTURAL PEOPLE. 41
I take it for granted that a library exists, embracing the
best writers in history, politics, morals and religion, and in
the sciences peculiarly connected with agriculture ; that all
pursue to some extent those subjects which are of common
interest, and that every one gives free scope to his own
peculiar taste, and becomes able to contribute his share to
the information of the neighborhood. Poetry especially,
deriving its beauty from the scenes of nature, and its value
from the deep philosophy which it thus adorns, cannot fail
to interest and improve such a neighborhood. Taste is
indigenous in the country ; it can, it does spring up in the
farm-house; often, but not always, — yet so often as to
show how fitted are the works of our highest poets to rural
life, — producing a refinement of thought and feeling be-
yond what is always seen in the elite of city life.
The habit of reading neivspapers will not answer the
purpose. I used to say in an early period of my life —
" When I have read a newspaper, I don't know anything."
In that medley reading, he who has not yet learned to select
and reject almost intuitively, who has not learned the happy
art of forgetting as well as remembering, will either gain no
knowledge, or sJich confused and indistinct impressions, as
are worse than ignorance — must be more and more ill
educated, the more he reads and the longer he lives. On
the other hand, in the reading of continuous works, each
new page renders the lessons of the past more distinct and
abiding; while the growing materials become the subject
of reflection, and the source oC wisdom, and the means of
preparing the faculties for new acquisitions and new reflec-
tions. The mind thus trained will even gather much from
the newspaper itself, no longer the minister of confusion,
but aiding a well regulated mind.
I have already suggested, as a help to early education,
the keeping of a journal of some agricultural department.
It belongs to this article to require it also of the heads of
the establishment, to call for it as the custom of the dis-
trict, at once for their own benefit and as an example and
encouragement to the young. This work alone would
cultivate the habit of regular mental employment, would
exercise observation and reflection, and would while nour-
ishing every faculty furnish constant materials for improve-
ment in the occupations of rural life. If a high example
G
44 MR NOTTS LECTURE.
comes back upon my own profession, the educators, as
truly as the religious instructers of society. For so has
God ordered it, that those whom he has appointed for man's
spiritual and eternal benefit, have more than any other
profession the opportunity of cultivating the mental facul-
ties, of furnishing the growing mind and directing it to the
best methods and to the most ample stores of imp;ovement.
Here, as in all directions, is the scriptural assurance true,
that godliness is profitable for the life that now is as well
as of that which is to come. The ministers of religion
have never been backward in the direct care of rural edu-
cation. What we here regard is the indirect service to be
rendered, by the example of a love of improvement, of
studious habits ; by their repeated applications to the pub-
lic mind in their proper calling. What range of instruc-
tion is afforded within the all-pervading principles of our
faith ! What opportunity we have of exciting inquiry, of
awakening thought, of opening new sources of improve-
ment to every person, of giving a direction to conversation
and reading.
The influence of the christian ministry in promoting a
good rural education, is aided greatly no doubt by the
social intercourse and example of a minister and his family,
when such a family is itself a specimen of the mutual im-
provement of parents and their children together, them-
selves too, aided by and aiding the neighborhood in
which Providence has cast their lot. Happy when the
clergyman's family are nobofly of the country town, nor on
the other hand hunters for good society out of their usual
range ; but without refusing or disregarding the advantages
of a wider intercourse, are still lovers of their country
and find their best friends and dearest associates in the
well improved companions of their rural walks. These
aids to the education of the people, by the rural clergy,
are no doubt hindered now by their presfent uncertain resi-
dence and frequent removals, and can only be rendered to
the best advantage, when though change be allowed as the
exception, permanence is adopted as the rule — when the
common understanding is, that his charge is the minister's
abiding home.
Let it not be thought that we limit our claim upon rural
clergy, to their own parish boundaries. Let us rather
EDUCATION F;)R AN AGRICULTURAL PEOPLE. 45
assign to them also the high office of aiding or checking
that metropolitan influence which for better or worse, is
ever tending to expand itself over the community — the
office shall we say, of senators to accept or reject the legis-
lation, readily and eagerly proft'ered from the proper cen-
tres of action and energies: — not by their own vote but
by exemplifying, and promoting through the land a wise,
sane and independent mind. Then only can this office be
well performed, when there shall be found scattered in our
quiet country parishes, not only men diligent in their
loved duties, but many made more conspicuous by their
wisdom, knowledge and faithful devotion to the pubhc
good, than they could be made by the most elevated sta-
tions — men capable of influencing not merely their own
locality, but the generation in which they live and the gen-
erations which are to follow.
But we obtain some further light by considering a proper
education as befitting the condition of an agricultural peo-
ple. It should be fitted to make them most comfortable, -^Z
contented and happy in their line and lot of life.
I speak of the rural community as a body, and as such
to remain in the lot of their inheritance as laborers on the
soil. It is to be expected of course in that free state
of society where agriculture has profitable intercourse with
all other interests, that peculiar inclination, or talents or
circumstances, will, whether raising or depressing them, .
bring many from agricultural into manufacturing, commer-^
cial or professional life. It is right, that all professions
should be connected with the root and foundation of society,
and that the heights of society should be ascended from the
farm-house. Our inquiry regards not these special cases ; ^^
but the unexcepted mass of the people. No education can
be more improper than that which keeps the eye ever open
upon other employments, which lures the imagination ever
with the advantages of other employments, which sets
other employments in contrast as to advantages and enjoy-
ments, with the actual employment to which the life is
allotted ; and that is on the other hand a proper education
which makes man most comfortable, contented and happy
in their actual lot. On this principle we have the follow-
ing directions. A propei* education for an agricultural
people proceeds, on motives belonging to their lot in life,
and aims at purposes attainable in that lot.
48 MR NOTT'S LECTURE.
examples of the fact, let education be such as shall prepare
farmers for the labors of the field, that they may know
how to accomplish the labors of each season in its time
without the hazard of a broken constitution and to bring
on their sons to the labors of the field without breaking
their spirits or their health ; and to give to wives all
needful aid, in that most difficult and important period of
life, when a young family is raised.
But a proper education regards more than securing
wealth and health and life and limb, than the mere supply of
the animal necessities, even the making life as agreeable as
possible. That is not deserving the name of education
which provides only for a livehhood, a boon secured by
mere instinct to the meanest animal. Education of man must
provide for the \velM)eing of man-r-for the refined enjoy-
ments of the man, for the higher senses of the body and for
all the faculties of the mind. This is true not only of the
higher classes — against which if we had them by heredi-
tary descent, I have nothing to say : but it is true of the
working classes. The working man is not educated pro-
perly as a working man — unless he is trained to the enjoy-
ments of a man.
I need not dwell at large upon what is perfectly obvious,
the pleasures which an improved and improving mind will
find in reading and in conversation and in those reflections
which belong only to improved and improving minds.
They are but savages themselves who claim that savage is
as happy as civilized life, and that the well informed and
studious are no happier than the boor in his chosen igno-
rance. The happiness of improved and improving minds
is within the reach of the agricultural population, and that
is not a proper education for them which does not furnish
theai this happiness. Reading, reflection, conversation,
such as belong to improved and improving minds, are the
peculiar boon of the country. The absence of variety, of
objects to stimulate curiosity, leaves the mind free to read
the works of the wise and good of all nations and of all
times, given as they are to the farmer in his own mother
tongue — his accustomed solitude and quiet give scope
to his own reflections upon this growing knowledge.
While his opportunities of conversation in his fami!} and
neighborhood are just frequent enough, to make it ever
EDUCATION FOR AN AGRICULTURAL PEOPLE.
^
assign to them also the high office of aiding or checking
that metropohtan influence which for better or worse, is
ever tending to expand itself over the community — the
office shall we say, of senators to accept or reject the legis-
lation, readily and eagerly profl'ered from the proper cen-
tres of action and energies: — not by their own vote but
by exemplifying, and promoting through the land a wise,
sane and independent mind. Then only can this office be
well performed, when there shall be found scattered in our
quiet country parishes, not only men diligent in their
loved duties, but many made more conspicuous by their
wisdom, knowledge and faithful devotion to the public
good, than they could be made by the most elevated sta-
tions— men capable of influencing not merely their own
locality, but the generation in which they live and the gen-
erations which are to follow.
But we obtain some further light by considering a proper
education as befitting the condition of an agricultural peo- /^
pie. It should be fitted to make them most comfortable,
contented and happy in their line and lot of life.
I speak of the rural community as a body, and as such
to remain in the lot of their inheritance as laborers on the
soil. It is to be expected of course in that free state
of society where agriculture has profitable intercourse with
all other interests, that peculiar inclination, or talents or
circumstances, will, whether raising or depressing them,
bring many from agricultural into manufacturing, commer-
cial or professional life. It is right, that all professions
should be connected with the root and foundation of society,
and that the heights of society should be ascended from the
farm-house. Our inquiry regards not these special cases ;
but the unexcepted mass of the people. No education can
be more improper than that which keeps the eye ever open
upon other employments, which lures the imagination ever
with the advantages of other employments, which sets
other employments in contrast as to advantages and enjoy-
ments, with the actual employment to which the life is
allotted ; and that is on the other hand a proper education
which makes man most comfortable, contented and happy
in their actual lot. On this principle we have the follow-
ing directions. A proper education for an agricultural
people proceeds, on motives belonging to their lot in life,
and aims at purposes attainable in that lot.
48 MR NOTT'S LECTURE.
examples of the fact, let education be such as shall prepare
farmers for the labors of the field, that they may know
how to accomplish the labors of each season in its time
without the hazard of a broken constitution and to bring
on their sons to the labors of the field without breaking
their spirits or their health ; and to give to wives all
needful aid, in that most difficult and important period of
life, when a young family is raised.
But a proper education regards more than securing
wealth and health and life and limb, than the mere supply of
the anitnal necessities, even the making life as agreeable as
possible. That is not deserving the name of education
which provides only for a livelihood, a boon secured by
mere instinct to the meanest animal. Education of man must
provide for the well-being of man-;— for the refined enjoy-
ments of the man, for the higher senses of the body and for
all the faculties of the mind. This is true not only of the
higher classes — against which if we had them by heredi-
tary descent, I have nothing to say ; but it is true of the
working classes. The working man is not educated pro-
perly as a working man — unless he is trained to the enjoy-
ments of a man.
I need not dwell at large upon what is perfectly obvious,
the pleasures which an improved and improving mind will
find in reading and in conversation and in those reflections
which belong only to improved and improving minds.
They are but savages themselves who claim that savage is
as happy as civilized life, and that the well informed and
studious are no happier than the boor in his chosen igno-
rance. The happiness of improved and improving minds
is vviihin the reach of the agricultural population, and that
is not a proper education for them which does not furnish
them this happiness. Reading, reflection, conversation,
such as belong to improved and improving minds, are the
peculiar boon of the country. The absence of variety, of
objects to stimulate curiosity, leaves the mind free to read
the works of the wise and good of all nations and of all
times, given as they are to the farmer in his own mother
tongue — his accustomed solitude and quiet give scope
to his own reflections upon this growing knowledge.
While his opportunities of conversation in his family and
neighborhood are just frequent enough, to make it ever
EDUCATION FOR AN AGRICULTURAL PEOPLE. 49
agreeable. Not to dwell upon the pleasures of reading
and thought — how are those pleasures diffused and multi-
plied by conversation in the family and neighborhood.
The family needs not ingress or egress for its amusement
or delight, for it lives farmer-like " within itself," and so
much the better, as a youthful race grows up into the en-
joyments of their parents. And the neighborhood is not
dull, for want of good society as some exiled citizens may
think ; but glows daily with the pleasures of sensible and
refined conversations — such as often is not in the saloons
of wealth and fashion, and often is, in the calm country
retreat, in the farm-houses and groves and fields and lanes
of our rural districts.
But when I speak of an education, to make rural life as
agreeable as possible, while I require suitable reading, re-
flection, conversation, I am desirous to insist on one par-
ticular more likely to be left out of view ; I mean that
agricultural education should prepare the people for their
own peculiar enjoyments, to take delight in rural life, and
especially in their own rural home.
As to the general delight in rural life, it can hardly fail to »
follow, from that study of agriculture for other purposes X
which we have already commended. I am not afraid to ' ^
say, that there is no employment of man so likely to grow
in one's aft'ections, as he endeavors to learn to carry it on
to the best advantage, as agriculture. Other employments
are regarded more (or their prQJjts ; but this from step to
step, as one tries to improve it, more and more interests
and delights the mind, while its results are ever furnishing
the finest pictures to the eye.
But I am yet more desirous, to see cherished a special
fondness to one's home, for the enduring scene, its rocks \
and rivers and hills and vales, its orchards and groves, as 4^
they were to the eye of childhood and as they will remain
to the eye of old age, and for that new and improving
scenery with which industry and taste will adorn the cot-
tager's acre, and the wealthy land-holder's domain. To
regard fields and forests and hills and valleys and rocks
and rills and rivers ; to be capable of investing the home
of labor or of wealth with new and changing beauties, to
delight in gardening, husbandry and tree planting, to love
with a cherished fondness the ancient and growing beau-
7
50 MR NOTT'S LECTURE.
ties of a home ; to acquire the capacity of leaving it with
reluctance even at the call of necessity and duty, and the
consequent power of making another home, the source of
similar enjoyment. These, though missed sadly in all our
rural districts are most important objects of rural educa-
tion. If our rural society must roll on unceasing to the
wilderness, it were well if every wave might bear the love
of an early home, and a desire to renew, though at the
farthest west, that early home ; if distant emigrants might
find and bequeath to posterity a country and a home. I
cannot conceive the man to be a man, a whole man, in
whom the love of nature about his birth place has not
awoke, and is not cherished — cherished by himself, and
whom it does not lead forth to beautify and adorn the spot,
which though it were but for a year he calls his home ;
and which if our tossing sea has sickened will not revive
again and live, in some beloved home. Let the love of
nature and of home and of country revive everywhere and
bless our eastern lands, and establish families and commu-
nities in beloved homes even to the farthest west. Thus,
shall our country assume in the progress of its rural civili-
/q~ zation the outward form of Paradise, which can never be
given to the brick and mortar of the city ; thus become the
'quiet garden of a peaceful and virtuous population.
The proper education, in this particular, may be greatly
aided by a right course, in those farmers who rise to con-
A siderable wealth. Nothing is more silly — nothing, in truth,
more vulgar — than the attempts we sometimes see in such
cases, to lay aside country vulgarity. Nothing is more
ridiculous than the ill-taste of the family of a wealthy farmer,
when the parents are mainly occupied in showing off their
flock of young apes; whose whole influence in their rural
neighborhood, is conveyed in the silly apery of city fashions
and city manners. On the other hand, farmers whom prov-
idence has blest with wealth, need not be restricted to the
narrow expenditures of their poorer neighbors ; but may
expend in good taste, and for good purposes, in a manner
which shall at once benefit the circumstances of the com-
munity, and be a safe and proper example for imitation by
the poorest of their neighbors, according to each one's de-
gree. The expenditure of thousands in the increase of real
comforts and conveniences, and in an extended hospitality
EDUCATION FOR AN AGRICULTURAL PEOPLE. 61
in the increase of books, maps, and all materials for the
improvement of a family and the neighborhood ; the im-
provement of lands and grounds, in view of permanent \
profit and enduring beauty, would be an example which, |
in their degree, all might imitate. Such example was ren-
dered, on the highest scale, by the father of his country —
the plainest of all fanners — in the wise, useful, and tasteful
expenditure of a princely establishment. His fondness for
agriculture, his love of rural life and of home, would have
made him the more humble copy of his own high example,
had his been the lot of a working farmer. " The more I
am acquainted with agricultural affairs," said that true
farmer, " the more am I pleased with them ; insomuch that
I can nowhere find so great satisfaction as in those innocent
and useful pursuits. In indulging these feelings, I am led
to reflect how much more delightful to the undebauched ,
mind, is the task of making improvement on the earth, than /\^
all the vain glory which can be acquired from ravaging it
by the most uninterrupted career of conquest." With such
a spirit, he could have found a delightful home, had his
been the lot of a working farmer. Around his more hum-
ble dwelling, and with the labor of his own hands, he would
have made a humble copy of the taste and beauty of Mount
Vernon.
I cannot forbear here the expression of the wish that we
may have increase among us of the class of gentlemen
farmers; by which I mean only farmers whose wealth pre-
vents the necessity of their daily labor, but who prove them-
selves, like our noble Washington, to be gentlemen by the
excellence of their principles and pursuits. The concen-
tration of wealth about our cities, and the constant breaking
up of wealthy country families, and their final exile from
their homes and from rural life, deprives our wide country
of the advantage which would be afforded by ancient and
venerable establishments ; conspicuous examples of all that
is excellent in husbandry, and of all that is valuable in in-
tellect and morals; touching the surrounding population
with an influence less despotic, less presumptuous, and
more propitious than is now too often exercised by the
passing citizen, or the aristocratic gentry of the store, or
the factory, or the professions.
.+
62 MR NOTTS LECTURE.
III. The proper education of an agricultural population,
must regard their appropriate duties — must be such as will
enable them to do the duties of their lot.
Whatever limitation to the mere knowledge of their
trade might seem worthy on other grounds to be allowed,
would be removed by the consideration that the agricultural
population is entrusted, like all other portions of society,
with domestic education — the education of the rising race;
I and from their numbers, of course, with the education of
I the mass of the people. If the agricultural community is
ill-educated, then are the people ill-educated. Incompe-
tence and neglect here, weakens and diseases the living
body of society. In view, then, of a duty common to every
class and to every family — but more important in the mass
than in any fragments of society — what is the proper edu-
cation of an agricultural people?
In answering this question, briefly, as we must, we say
that a business committed to all classes, and for the most
part to those who are literally to eat bread in the sweat of
their brow, does not demand what the authorof their allot-
ment has denied — viz. the leisure universally allowed to
the learned professions, or which wealth bestows ; nor any
learning for which such leisure is indispensable. Yet must
we claim, since it is committed to beings capable of increas-
ing knowledge and skill, that every parent, even down to
the lowliest cottager, is bound to labor for growing know-
ledge and skill, and from step to step to take the utmost
pains to know and do his duty well. Hence we must re-
quire that all parents should have — and if they have not,
be studiously and earnestly acquiring — such knowledge as
will enable them to further the education of their children
on the scale of their instruction in the rural schools; and
that every attempt to elevate the standard of common edu-
cation, be understood and welcomed as a demand for a
corresponding elevation of parental education ; and that
every family press forward modestly, conscientiously, dili-
gently, perseveringly, not only at every public demand,
but with spontaneous desires and efforts.
It is a part of this demand that an agricultural popula-
tion should acquire as extensively as possible those just
principles of education which, easily attained by all minds,
are not to be separated from popular and prevailing error
EDUCATION FOR AN AGRICULTURAL PEOPLE. 53
without design and care ; thai parents should be ever at-
tempting to increase their own store of" knowledge, so as to
be ever capable of interesting and instructing their children
in all the old and in all the new that may arise. How im-
portant, especially — not a literary, not a learned, not a
lady-like, (those are not the words) — but a considerate, a
reflecting, a studious, a cultivated, refined, and sensible
mother: a mother capable of winning and keeping the
confidence of her children ; of securing honor from both
sons and daughters as they rise to manhood and woman-
hood. Such a mother have I seen, not unfrequenlly in the
farmhouse, herself bred in the farmhouse, and inheriting the
cultivation and refinement of many generations : the help-
meet of a father, not a stranger to out-door toils and cares,
yet the fit companion of a cultivated woman — her fit asso-
ciate in training intellect, and taste, and religion in the
children, thriving like olive-plants round about their table.
Delightful instances occur to my mind, where the working
father and mother have been surrounded with sons and
daughters, versed not only in all common education, but in
the histories and classics of their native tongue; where, not
distant from the plough and the spinning wheel, the most
liberal studies have been pursued, and the most refined
conversation enjoyed ; scenes which intercourse with other
countries and many cities, and with the refined and intelli-
gent of the highest classes, has not cast into the shade.
But duty has a wider claim upon the education of an
agricultural people — viz. that it be such as shall promote
and secure the best state of society ; thus giving promise of
blessing to future generations. We have a conception, at
once, of what makes a good state of society in each local
vicinage, and which being extended over all the rural dis-
tricts, would concentrate blessings upon the masses assem-
bled for the purposes of manufactures and commerce. In-
dividual character is formed upon high and noble principles,
if not in every instance, yet so numerously as to influence
the entire mass. There is the predominant influence of
worthy men, diffusing through society thoughts of whatever
is lovely and of good report. Social intercourse is kindly
and cheerful, and for purposes worthy the high endowments
of men — is fitted for the growth, improvement and har-
mony of the moral and intellectual powers.
^
64 MR NOTT'S LECTURE.
r^ Union exists where union will best promote the social
'il interests of society, and retirement, private or domestic, in
all those things which nature has willed to the care of the
individual or family. Hence libraries, and literary and
religious societies, for the support and the use of public
institutions, that the united cloud may drop as the rain and
distil as the dew ; and on the other hand, the habits of
personal reading and reflection, and of domestic education,
by which only public advantages are appropriated to the
people. Hence the condition of a well-informed and con-
\ siderate and virtuous people — people prepared to meet all
' the emergencies of their lot. The promise of good to such
a people is met by candor and good sense, and is welcomed
or rejected according to its merits. The old is not rejected
as dross because it is old, nor the iiew welcomed as gold
because it is new. There is nothing to discourage improve-
ment, for such a people have daily experience of its possi-
bility and value. There is nothing to encourage innovation,
for they will not have forced upon them what is contrary to
their intuitive reason, to the wisdom of revelation, or the
lessons of human experience. The press, with its power
.jL^f multiplying infinitely any proposal, and the mail, by
\ carrying it to every hamlet and every house, shall have the
opportunity of diffusing life and light to the remotest bodies
of society, but shall in vain attempt in politics, morals, or
religion to toss the people like children to and fro.
If a furnace heat accumulate in every metropolis, and
throw abroad its sparks and coals over all the land, they
shall fall among a people whom they cannot set on fire of
evil, yet ready even from the smallest spark to kindle and
glow, in every work of glory to God, of peace on earth and
good will to man.
Without a proper education in this respect — an educa-
tion securing a good state of society — without an education
to candor and good sense, to kindness and good neighbor-
hood, to good judgment and stability and virtue, to a power
of welcoming all improvement, of rejecting all innovation,
to that control of the passions which can preserve a people
from becoming tlie victims of novelty or sympathy — with-
out these demands, the press and the mail may but serve to
bring the caprices and sympathies of society into as rapid
movement as if the mass of millions were wrought upon
EDUCATION FOR AN AGRICULTURAL PEOPLE. 55
within a single village or city ; may but serve to scatter
fire brands, and wrap the country suddenly in a common
flame, or cover it with the fragments of an universal explo-
sion.
Or if society be preserved from conflagration or explosion,
it is easy to see how an ill-educated, an ill-principled people
will make curses of these blessings, will blight and blast
their glorious opportunity. The places of social inHuefice,
the seats of education, and the learned professions, how
would they be filled by such a people ? how be filled by the
suffrages of ignorance, and caprice, and passion ? How
by such a people may their lights be made darkness !
Boasting of improvements, but the victims of every inno-
vation ; patients to every quack ; clients to every pettifog-
ger; the disciples of every novice ; and readers only of the
ravings of scandal, and caprice, and folly and malice. How
must such a people become at length unstable as water,
tossed on the waves of anarchy and fanaticism, capable of
no other steadfastness but in the anchorage of despotism.
Or if evils so great as these should be escaped, and society
should still hold together, how except by such an education
as we claim, shall even a well disposed community be ca-
pable of conducting the affairs which in our country devolve *
upon the agricultural mass? Our state legislatures trans-
act the legislation of the country. The agricultural pop-
ulation are the law-makers of the land ! How necessary
that they should be educated at least capable of forming
a wise judgment upon those high matters which for good
and evil must be submitted to them, so that the voice of the
people may never distract or disturb the pursuits of men,
may ever promote the well-being of the people.
That good state of society which shall welcome improve-
nientandreject innovation, is partly provided for in the ^>C
very conditioifoTagrlcuTtural life. The farm house, the '
rural neighborhood and township, are the least favorable
spots for agitation. The solitary farm-house, and espe-
cially the field, give the fire lime to go out, if it has begun
to kindle from the coals of some distant furnace. In a
word, the solitariness and toil of an agricultural life favor
the recovery of men to their sober senses, if they have been
at any time disturbed, and especially secure sound sense
and discretion to a studious, reflecting and virtuous people.
66 MR NOTT'S LECTURE.
. A well read and studious, virtuous yeomanry is the best
\ security which any country can enjoy against the agitations
to which society is exposed. fVe must complete what our
forefathers begun. Our forefathers were readers of the
folios and quartos of the seventeenth century, students
at their own fire sides, and under the summer shades of
their own dwellings, of profoundest writers on politics,
morals and religion ; training up their children around
them to all that was lovely and of good report. Such men
were able to found a government. Such men would be
able to preserve it, if they were spread from the Atlantic to
the Pacific. Let us not imagine that our plans can confer
that power, because they enable the agricultural population
\ to master the spelling book and read the newspaper. Not
until we regain the domestic studies of our fathers, and their
virtues too, can we feel sure of retaining and bequeathing
our inheritance.
It is impossible in otir country and in our times to dis-
miss the demand of dutij, without regarding other nations.
If duty requires us to regard all people as our brethren,
and to seek their best interests, then does it require of that
class of our people which form the mass corresponding
education. If it be our duty to bear our part as people i«
the great work of blessing mankind, is it not our duty to
require a suitable education, and especially of the rural
population ? The tree for the healing of the nations must
receive its chief nourishment from this soil. The world
demands and gives occasion for great and growing improve-
ments.
In the first place, the motives which are to impel us can
be derived only from the history of all ages. If our country
aids in the moral improvement of the world, earnestly and
perseveringly, it will be because it understands and feels
I the motives which human experience has wrought out, in
/~the progress of six thousand years. But tell us, if you can,
i how the idle and the ignorant, the reader who reads not,
j or who reading considers not, can be governed by the
I motives of all history — can he guided by the lights of all
history ?
We may be wiser than the ancients if we will, and be the
dispensers of blessings which the ancients did not give to
the world ; but r^ot by the magic of being born two or
EDUCATION FOR AN AGRICULTURAL PEOPLE. 57
three thousand years later, not by some modern instinct of
wisdom and benevolence ; but by diligence in exploring the
experience of ages — by the modesty and the trust in God,
for a work which has baffled the self-sufficient wisdom of
all nations and all times.
Under this restriction, I am not disposed to check the as-
pirations of the American people ; even when they imagine
themselves entrusted with the destinies of mankind. True,
they are but an example of the ludicrous, when they boast
of principles yet unimproved ; as if they had undergone this
test of experiment; but in proportion as they are found
studying deeply the history of man and especially the word
of God, we will bid speed to the humblest agriculturist,
nor accuse him of folly and presumption when he appears
to be a benefactor of the world. The most retired farmer
so employed, though in the most obscure retreat, hidden
in some narrow valley, is nobly occupied, for himself, his
family, his country and the world. In that calm retreat,
it were well to gratify his curiosity and to feed his mind
with knowledge ; but he is more nobly occupied — search-
ing the deepest recesses of human nature, he comes back
with the wisdom of all ages, and acting wisely and piously
in his own proper sphere, the star-light of his wisdom and
piety will be shed forth to distant nations and distant times.
In closing this lecture I have only to insist on what has
been more than once assumed, that the education of an
agricultural population must be Christian, leaving the ex-
planation of the term to the scriptures from which is
derived. Christianity alone can keep alive the interest in
a state of society where stimulants are so much lacking or
give the right direction where a deep interest is felt. I
shall not enlarge on this point ; but commend it to the
conscience and the heart of this audience and the Ameri-
can people, by referring to the voice of experience, which
remarkably appeals to us from two countries peculiarly en-
titled to a hearing.
Frederick the Great, king of Prussia, abetted with the
dignity and influence of royalty, the philosophic infidelity
of Voltaire, and under their malign auspices, both litera-
ture and government, seemed to have made a league as for
the destruction of Christianity, so for its banishment from
all influence upon the education of the people. The ex-
8
58 MR NOTT'S LECTURE.
periment was tried and as it came on and went forward,
the release of mankind from the ancient superstitions was
heralded as the means of renovating the world, and from
the parent and the school-master, by ridicule or by force the
Christian Scriptures were wrested, not only in France, but
in some proportion over all Europe and America. Our ag-
ricultural population, remote as it might seem from the
centres of infidelity felt the shock, and our rural districts,
even the most remote, whether for quiet or for shame or
for indifference became less than before the seats of in-
struction. The schoolmaster and the parents, the agents
who alone reach the people, were freed from the claim of
giving a christian education. The effect of this grand mis-
take, where it was complete, was such as to astound the
world ; can it be that its evil consequences did not extend
to all countries who were in any degree guilty of the error ;
that infidelity in whatever degree has hindered and marred
the labor of the schoolmaster and the parent amidst our
agricultural population ?
And here it is that the voice of experience has come to
our aid, from Prussia, the distinct and loud claim of chris-
tian instruction, carried down from the throne to every rural
district, to the parent and the schoolmaster. The first
demand of the present Prussian system, is, on religion and
morality, established on the positive truths of Christianity.
Yes, and that the claims might follow the track of the
error, even as it were the claim of repentance.
Another philosopher follows after the lapse of eightyfive
years the pathway of that remarkable man, that Jinti-
christian philosopher, who by the invitation of Frederick
and the permission of his own sovereign went breathing
out the prophecy of extermination against Christianity in
all lands, and for how different a purpose ; to behold in
Prussia the benefit of christian instruction, and to send
abroad to France and the world the claim that the parents
and the school-master must bless the rising youth of all
countries by the lessons of the christian faith. Yes, let it
never be forgotten, the successor of Voltaire, at the court
of the successor of Frederick the Great, has not come to
plot the destruction of Christianity, to sneer at its profes-
sions, to rejoice at its parting downfall ; but to send home
the demand for Christian instruction in all the rural districts
EDUCATION FOR AN AGRICULTURAL PEOPLE. 69
of France — her farmers and her vinedressers — yes, and
for all people, stations and languages who may have taken
part in her delusions. Let us accept the lessons which
divine Providence gives so remarkably, and beware lest we
attempt, or expect the improvement of the people, without
christian instruction. In a proper agricultural education
the farmer and his son and his daughter and his man-ser-
vant and his maid-servant and his cattle are at rest, and
every seventh day is given especially to christian education,
thus governing all days by its uniform and pervading power.
LECTURE II I.
THE POLITICAL INFLUENCE
SCHOOL-MASTERS.
BY E. WASHBURN.
POLITICAL INFLUENCE OF SCHOOL-MASTERS.
When, in the so often repeated language of Mr
Brougham, it was announced that " the school-master was
abroad " in England, few understood or could appreciate
the import of the language. There was nothing in the
humble and unpretending duties of the school-master to
attract the notice of the men of power and influence in
that kingdom. There stood the towers and halls of Cam-
bridge and Oxford as they had stood for ages, and around
them still shone the undying glory which had been shed on
these seats of learning by the illustrious dead. And there
too was Eton, whose " distant spires and antique towers"
were as immortal as the muse of Gray. And there were
Harrow and Westminster, valuable by the associations
which they awakened in the mind of the scholar and the
statesman. And there might the sons of the rich and the
noble come together as their fathers had done before them,
and what to them was the going forth of the school- master '
He bore no insignia of the honors of the University ; he
walked not in the light of great men's patronage ; he sought
not the palace of the king nor the halls of the noble. He
went forth in the humble consciousness of self-sustaining
power to gather a flock from the swarming lanes of Bir-
mingham and Manchester, or to the hamlet where the
children of the peasantry were growing up in ignorance
and vice, and amidst the din and smoke of the city, or in
the seclusion of the country, he began the slow, the unpre-
tending business of instruction.
Such was the man, and such were his labors, whom
England had yet to know in the nameless school-master
who was abroad through her borders.
64 MR WASHBURN'S LECTURE.
But the age has not yet come that is to tell the fruits of
that man's labors. There is a heaving there as it were of
an earthquake. There is a moving among the elements
of society there which marks an influence stronger than
the power of the government, an influence under which
her antiquated institutions are crumbling and sinking down,
and the whole moral atmosphere of the kingdom is becom-
ing changed. When that power shall have been felt in its
results, and that influence shall have accomplisped its per-
fect work, then and not till then will it be known and un-
derstood what part the school-master has had in accom-
plishing that mighty revolution.
I have anticipated, in these remarks, the subject to which
I am to call your attention. But before I enter more fully
upon " the Political Injluence of the School-Master upon a
community ,^^ it becomes necessary to define the terms which
are to be adopted, lest we confound a broad and generous
principle with the narrow and selfish interest of a sect, or
" to party give up" what should be " meant for mankind."
Let it therefore be understood that by the political rela-
tion of teachers to the community, we have no reference
to those struggles for political power which from time to
time divide the public mind. The feelings which are
enlisted in these controversies are but the outbreakings of
unregulated passion, and the teacher who should spend his
influence in achieving or defeating the triumph of either
party in such a struggle, would be recreant to his appropri-
ate and infinitely more important duty. Whoever should
hope to benefit society by merely securing the election of
some favorite candidate would generally find his effort as
unavailing as the attempt to purify the fabled cauldron of
the weird sisters by stirring up the feculence of its poison-
ous compound, instead of tempering its bubbling ingredi-
ents with the sweet waters of the healthy fountain.
By " political influence," then, we do not mean the
influence of party zeal, but that influence which is exerted
upon a people and their government through the moral,
intellectual and social condition of its citizens.
In considering how the political influence of the school-
master is exerted upon a community, it cannot be neces-
sary to describe what are his appropriate duties, nor what
is meant by the term " Education," to the business of which
he devotes the powers of his mind.
INFLUENCE OF SCHOOL MASTERS. 66
It is enough to say that by education we mean not only
the acquisition of useful knowledge, but the operation of
developing the intellectual powers of man which, as a gen-
eral truth, lie comparatively dormant and inactive, until
brought into exercise by the force of discipline. It is these
intellectual powers which distinguish the man from the
machine; and the more perfectly they are developed, the
farther is the man removed from that mere mechanical con-
trol of superior powers, under which so many in every
country, especially of the old world, move and act. In
what, for instance, do the armies of Europe differ from so
many animated machines? And what but intellectual supe-
riority enables the nobles of Austria and Russia to hold m
subjection the serfs that till the soil of that proud and over-
bearing aristocracy ?
The moment we approach the subject of the political
condition of a people, embracing the tendency to freedom
or servitude, arising from the form and administration of
their government, we find the surest test of discrimination
to be the slate of their moral and intellectual culture. A
nation may indeed be comparatively wise, although cor-
rupt ; and they may be ignorant, and yet virtuous. But
history has proved that it is the combined influence of vir-
tue and intelligence alone that can make a nation perma-
nently free and happy.
It was the remark of an observing philosopher, that
" Every age bears within itself, in some degree, the age that
is to come after it;" and a single glance at the history of
the world shows the truth of this remark. If an age be-
comes vicious and corrupt, the weakness and effeminacy
of vice enervate the physical and intellectual vigor of man,
and the next age is naturally one of subjection or slavery.
On the other hand, if the moral energies of a people, from
any cause, are strongly excited, even if the glo.«s and fas-
cinating exterior in which vice conceals its deformities are
stripped off, and the stern and uninviting aspect of the
severer virtues renders society cold and repulsive, the
healthy and vigorous exercise of free thought and manly
independence is there, to give a character to the succeed-
ing age. And these again, from the very tendency of that
prosperity which they induce, are in danger of yielding to
the influence of luxurv and ease. Rome was free while
9
66 MR WASHBURN'S LECTURE.
Nil ma Pompilius was clothed with regal power. She was
in fact a slave even while Caesar " thrice refused a kingly
crown." What but the bloody scenes of '93 could have
been anticipated from the uncorrected vice and sensuality
of the age of the two preceding Lewises? And the ob-
server of human events might have foreseen in the stern
and uncompromising virtues of Hampden and Sydney, of
Robinson and Winthrop, the germination of that seed
which sprung up in the new world — a Puritan Republic.
It is an old figure that nations are like individuals in
their infancy, manhood and decline. But while this is
rather fanciful than correct, there is an analogy between
the physical condition of the one and the political condition
of the other, which every one may recognise.
The manner in which disease comes over the human
system, the necessity of guarding against its approach, or
of applying remedies to remove it, the effort by which na-
ture sometimes restores itself, and conquers the power of a
dangerous malady, are familiar to every one who has shared
*' the ills that flesh is heir to." So with the diseases which
affect the political well-being of a nation. Vice and cor-
ruption enervate the most powerful state. But if these are
seasonably attacked, and the impurities of the system be
timely removed, a healthy tone may be restored to the body
politic.
If, however, no such appliances are made, the malady
goes on till the stale falls a victim, or, as it were, by a death
struggle, rids itself of its disease, and rises an altered and
invigorated community.
Revolutions and changes like these have been scattered
all along the history of the world, from the days of Tarquin
to the conquests of the Hun and Vandal ; from the struggle
of the Albigenses to the Reformation of Luther; from the
revolution of '93 to that of the Barricades ; and from the
revolution which drove the bigoted James into exile to the
last step in the progress of reform, which has rendered the
present so memorable a period in English politics.
That national governments may be preserved from intes-
tine revolutions, seems to be established by the degree of
quiet and good order, and of peace and prosperity which is
sometimes enjoyed by nations through long periods of
years. Our own country may illustrate this remark. We
INFLUENCE OF SCHOOL MASTERS. 67
speak of our "Revolution," but it had little to do with the
internal and domestic relations of these colonies. The
war was from abroad, and when a foreign foe was expelled,
there was scarcely a change, save in name, between the in-
ternal police of the colonies as it had long existed, and that
of the independent citizens of the newly recognised re-
public.
Other examples might be referred to as justifying the
above remark ; and if it is true, it becomes important to
ascertain by what means the maladies which have destroyed
other governments may be warded off, and what precau-
tions are necessary to secure the health and vigor of the
body politic.
This inquiry brings us again to the subject to which we
have alluded, of the influence of national virtue and intel-
ligence upon national governments.
History is full of examples tending to show the connexion
that exists between the moral and physical condition of a
people. These examples are derived chiefly, it is true,
from the history of despotic governments, since true repub-
licanism is comparatively a modern discovery. But if under
a despotism, where the reigning power and those who are
ruled are separated by an impassible barrier — where it is
the right of one to command, and the duty of the other to
obey — if, we repeat, under such governments, the moral
and intellectual condition of a people affect the character
and stability of their political system, how much more
must that be true in governments like ours, where the
people themselves are the power which controls, for good
or for evil, the political destinies of the country.
In a despotic government, when the monarch and his
court are ignorant and corrupt, reform alone can save it
from becoming feeble and inefficient, unless the very ser-
vility and poverty of the people secure them from the
contaminating proximity of vice. But when a people
select their own rulers from among themselves, and receive
and communicate a reciprocal influence upon themselves
and the government, there is no power in reserve upon
which they can lean if the government becomes weak and
corrupt.
If it is asked why we have dwelt so long, on this occa-
sion, upon propositions which few would deny, we answer
68 MR WASHBURN'S LECTURE.
that we have been led to reiterate these trulhs because we
believe there is a more intimate connexion between our
schools and the moral and political character o( the people
than many may, at first, be willing to acknowledge. Nay
more, that upon our school masters more perhaps than any
other single cause, depends the character of the govern-
ment itself.
The condition and influence of the English schools and
universities might justify the remark I have made upon this
subject.
The great leading distinctions between the different
classes of society there, are the basis upon which their gov-
ernment is founded. Without their church establishnient,
their aristocracy and the accumulation of v\ealth in fmiilies
by entailment and primogeniture, their government could
not stand in its present form a single year.
A part of this system, or rather, it seems, the basis of
this system, is her national schools and universities. It is
at these that the sons of the nobility congregate. It is
at the universities that the future legislators meet to pass
the interval of time between leaving Eton or West»ninster
and entering upon the arena of public life and the enjoy-
ment of hereditary honors. The church and the aristocracy
first created these universities, and without them the church
and the aristocracy could not be sustained. The artificial
lines of distinction would melt away if the child of the duke
and the children of the laborer met in fair competition in
the village school. With all the checks which are inter-
posed against the lower classes, individuals are, from time
to tifne, surmounting these barriers, and taking a high
place among the noble and high born. Thurlow, the
proudest lord that ever sat on the woolsack, looked down
almost with contempt upon the rank and title to which his
talents and not his birth had raised him. The late Lord
Chancellor Eldon, and his brother, the Chief Justice of the
Admiralty Court, though nature's noblemen, had first to
rise above the level of the aristocracy, by their own exer-
tions, before they were permitted to wear the tinsel deco-
rations of knighthood and nobility. And Brougham, the
school master's ally and friend, forgot the dignity of the
man, when he put on that ofthe lord. And if the avenues
to honor and wealth were opened to all, by a general
difTusidn bf the means bf education, king, Ibrds and com^
INFLUENCE OF SCHOOL MASTERS. 69
mons might still mark official rank, but its brightness would
grow dim before the superior lustre which talents and in-
dustry would lend to individual character. Society would
grow republican in spirit, in spite of the forms it might
wear, or the name by which its members might be called.
But to apply these remarks and to determine more pre-
cisely the part which the school master takes in forming the
political character of a people, I propose to inquire first,
as to his influence over the minds of the young in the pro-
cess of education; and second, the influence which is and
may be exerted by him os a citizen upon the community
around him, by disseminating and sustaining correct senti-
ments and sound opinions.
It is too common to suppose that the sphere of a school
teacher's influence is limited to his school room and the
little flock who come together there. He is himself too
apt to consider the world and its revolutions as something
from which he is aloof; and, without looking beneath the
surface of what n)eets the eye, is too ready to suppose that
he has little or nothing in common with the master spirits
of the day, who control the politics and guide the opinions
of their fellow men.
One object, in fact, in selecting our present subject, was
to impress more strongly upon the public mind the impor-
t:.nt relation which the school master holds to the people
at large, and to enforce upon the mind of the school master
himself those considerations of self-respect which give dig-
nity to the employment in which he is engaged.
" To teach the yonng idea how to shoot," may have
once been the limit and end of " rearing the tender
thought." But it is so no longer. Education stops not
at the threshold of life. To guide the young to maturity,
to watch and direct the opening energies of the mind, to
develope the man and fit him not only for himself, but for
his country ; to go farther, and enlighten and guide the
public mind itself, and to sustain and defend the institutions
that preserve our liberties — these have become, under our
government, among the expanded duties and responsibil-
ities of the school master.
Our remarks upon the influence of the teacher over the
minds of his pupils need only be brief. Whoever has been
within the walls of a school roomj must have observed bow
70 MR WASHBURN'S LECTURE
much the character of every scholar, for the time being,
seems to borrow its form and hue from him who presides
there. Not only is this in the tone and manner in which
the scholar reads or recites, nor even in the matter of de-
portment, but what is more, in the very manner of thinking
and feeling. The pupil is placed under his master's con-
trol at that plastic age when, as his intellect expands, it
receives, for good or ill, the form which it is to wear in
after life. Who has forgotten or can ever forget the look,
the manner, the tone, the oracular response, the unbounded
learning and the infallible wisdom of the master who urged
our lagging steps along the early stages of the uphill and
tangled path of learning? And who, to the latest hour of life,^
can root out of his mind impressions that he there received?
Come what changes there may in the fortunes of after life,
the impressions of childhood gained in the humble school
room from the genius that presides there, be it mistress or
be it master, cling to us like the inward dictates of moral
sense, with a force that nothing but violence can over-
come.
Were I to do anything like justice to this part of our
subject, I should be obliged to repeat at large what has
again and again been said of the influence of education in
general upon the moral and intellectual condition of men.
And I should as soon think of stopping, with Faneuil Hall
on the one side and Bunker Hill on the other, to prove
that freedom is something worth struggling for, as to detain
you in showing that education — common school educa-
tion— is one of the main pillars upon which our political
institutions and liberties rest.
It is the favorite theory with many, that education alone
creates that dill'erence in intellectual power and personal
character, which we remark in all conditions in life. Im-
pressions, it is supposed, received in the early hours of in-
fancy and childhood, stamp a character upon the man that
he wears through life.
But witliout waiting to discuss the controverted influ-
ence of nature and education in causing that inequality
which we remark among men, or to define where genius
terminates and industry takes up the work of making a
great man great, we may readily admit the all but creative
power of education in moulding and fashioning the human
INFLUENCE OF SCHOOL MASTERS. 71
character, and in enlarging or cramping the intellectual
powers of man. No other proof of this can be required
than the indelible impression which the mother stamps upon
the mind and feelings of her child, which is observable in
every family.
How then shall we measure the influence of the school
master upon the social and political condition of his coun-
try ? Her future men of influence, who are to lead in the
management of her affairs, and to have the impress of their
own character upon everything around them, are placed
under his control at that susceptible period of life when
the deepest impressions are the most easily received, and
which, when once received, can never be wholly eflaced.
The child, moreover, plunges, as it were, from the confine-
ment and discipline oi the school room into the affairs of
iife, with little other preparatory discipline than what he
there receives, to mingle with and help form that mass of
physical and moral existence which constitutes the state —
a mass which is to be moved by moral power, and elevated
or depressed by moral means alone.
And if the village school master could gather around him
from their various vialks and employments, the men of in-
fluence whose intellectual powers were developed by his
efforts, how justly could he, like the Roman mother of old,
point to them as the priceless jewels with which he had
enriched his country.
Who does not recal, at once, some of those instances,
whose occurrence are matters of history as well as of obser-
vation, wherein the influence of which I have spoken has
been and is now felt upon the destinies of our country.
Go to our pulpits or to our seats of justice, or go to our
halls of congress, and see who occupy those places, and
trace them back to the scenes of their childhood, and in how
many instances shall we find the discipline of the village
school striking out, as it were, the spark of intellectual fire
that has lighted their pathway to eminence and distinction.
The future great men in our land are to be sought among
the children that meet on equal terms and upon common
ground in our " district schools." Let us enter one of
these humble mansions which every body knows "as it
was," at least, by the inimitable description of "one who
went to it." There it stands by the roadside, with discom-
72 MR WASHBURN'S LECTURE.
fort stamped on everything around it. Within it are assem-
bled some twenty or thiity boys, clad in their homespun,
and crowded between the narrow and uuco.nfortabie
benches which, inquisition-like, have tortured generation
alter generation of tVee-born children. Each has come to
go through the accustomed routine of reading and spelling,
of writing and cyphering, to fit him lor the places which
his fathers have filled belore him. There is nothing to the
casual observer to distinguish the individu ils of that little
group who, unconscious of the purposes for which they
couie together, seem glad only when the hour of confine-
ment has terminated. But if we could look within, and
mark the incipient developement of intellect which the <lis-
cipline of even the most indifferent school aids, if it does
not originally excite, we should find that there were minds
there whose finely attuned powers i-esponded to the touch
of tiie hand that played upon them, even though that hand
is but poorly skilled in the deep harmony of the hutuan
soul. If there is genius slumbering there, some cheering
word of the teacher, some look of encouragement on his
part, sustained by his counsel and advice, may rouse the
sleeping energies of its power; and when, in after days,
that mind shall sway the passions and judgments of men in
the pulpit or at the bar, or shall lead in the councils of the
nation, it will be seen that the hand that has struck out the
celestial spark of such a mind, reaches far beyond the limits
of the sphere within which alone it seems to be exerted.
Who will attempt to measure the influence upon this
and after ages, of the intellectual efforts of a single mind,
whose fame will perish only with our constitution ahd
liberty. And who when he traces that mind to its original
developement under the paternal roof or at the district
school, amidst the wild and rugged scenery of New Eng-
land, can calculate the value of his services who watcljed
and fostered the opening germ of that school boy's intel-
lect? It can only be measured when its influence shall
have ceased to be felt, because free institutions shall have
become no longer worth preserving.
I have spoken thus far of only one sex of either pupils
or teachers. But it has been in order to apply general
terms rather than to limit the subject of our reaiarks. I
almost regret that I am excluded from the field of maternal
INFLUENCE OF SCHOOL MASTERS. 73
influence over the child, which, as it begins earlier, is felt
wider and later than that even of the school master to vvhith
I have alluded. But I am obliged to hasten to the second
part of our subject — the influence which the school mas-
ter exerts as a citizen upon the community around him.
The controling power under a government like ours, is
public sentiment or popular will. Our constitution does
little more than to direct in what manner this power shall
be exercised, and to interpose such barriers to its opera-
tions as may save the people from the misguided paroxysms
of their own excited passions. The character of the gov-
ernment, therefore, must depend in no small degree upon
the tone of public sentiment. Every body, here, thinks, or
supposes he thinks, freely and understandingly upon what-
ever aflfects the public weal ; and this mass of thought
constitutes the power which we denominate public senti-
ment. Whatever course, therefore, the current of public
feeling may take, there is no counteracting power with
which to oppose its progress but a current of the same
element. So strong is the force of public feeling here that
it gives a hue and tone to our civil and social relations,
and often even to individual character, which affects, in no
slight degree, our national as well as individual happiness
as a people.
The young man when he leaves school or college, finds
himself surrounded by the mass of society, and almost of
necessity helps to swell or counteract the current of popu-
lar feeling which may then be prevalent in the community.
And if he carries with him into the world correct feelings
and sound opinions, the instructions of his teacher will be
felt in whatever cause these may be called into exercise.
But the influence of school masters is still more directly
exerted upon a community than through the pupils they
may have taught.
Powerful as is the popular will, every man of observa-
tion must have remarked how inconsiderable are the springs
which set this power in motion.
How small a portion of what we call the public, even
think for themselves, or hold opinions for which they are
not indebted to others. It is well nigh impossible for a
man to live in a community where politics, for instance, are
the subject of daily discussion, without imbibing opinions
10
74 MR WASHBURN'S LECTURE.
which he is ready to defend whenever they are attacked.
Nor does it matter whether he be the originator of these
opinions or has borrowed them from others. They are
made his own by some process, and many a man would go
to the stake rather than give up a favorite beUef, though
he never examined its grounds, or how he came by it.
The less a man knows, the more obstinate he is in clinging
to an opinion which he has made his own, though he might
sometimes blush at the source, if he would but trace it out,
from whence he received it.
Opinions which gain even the force of law in a commu-
nity, are often without any good foundation, and derive
their currency from the name of some one, or, at most,
some few in that community. London itself was once the
copier and echo of John Wilkes, and from the color of a
hair powder, to the complexion of a political opinion, he
was the standard ; and " Wilkes and Liberty " was rung
in every change by a million of men, from some of whom
at least, a higher standard of morals and integrity might
have been looked for, than the licentious author of a vile
and witless poem.
Comparatively few stop to weigh or examine the opinions
they entertain upon any subject. If it is religion, theirs is
the creed of their sect. If it is politics, their party gives
them the test by which to try their opinions, and if they
coincide with this standard, they trouble themselves
no farther. Every man, for instance, in a Catholic coun-
try has decided opinions upon the leading matters of faith,
and yet how few, beyond the clergy stop to examine
those opinions ?
Under our government, it is true, we have no actual
shackles upon public or private opinion. We have no ex-
cathedra dogmas in politics or religion which we may not
reject with safety.
The revolution that cut asunder the ties that bound us
to the old world, was not so much a physical emancipation
from the civil power of another government as it was a
setting free of the human mind from antiquated notions
and opinions upon matters of political and religious faith.
Europe has long been struggling to shake off the night-
mare weight of her old systems, and the occasional out-
breakings of popular violence there, serve to indicate the
INFLUENCE OF SCHOOL MASTERS. 75
heaving and deep felt agitation which is moving the very
elements of her social state. It is the struggle of minds
which would be free, to throw off the leaden weight that
has so long kept down the mass of her people — a weight
which the Puritans would not bear, and which their sons
cast off altogether, when they assumed the place and rank
of an independent nation.
But even here, where every man has a stake in the govern-
ment, and where the public will — the only despot that we
acknowledge is but the aggregation of individual opinions
and wishes, how few, in reality, think their own thoughts,
or speak their own words ! How many are there who
would spurn the idea of living otherwise than perfectly
free, who would no more presume to go counter to those
around them in matters of belief, of opinion or even of
fashion, than the slave to resist the commands of a master.
Nor is this surprising if we examine into the causes
which produce it. The mass of men here have no time to
examine for themselves into the grounds of action or belief
upon the great subjects which, from time to time, com-
mand the public attention. The politics of a state are, and
of necessity must be, complicated from their very nature
They embrace a mass of internal and external relations
which can only be understood by long and patient study.
It is not expected nor desirable that a whole community
should give up themselves to this study. There must be a
division of labor in this, as in other departments of indus-
try and knowledge, and men are so constituted that they
always will, as a general proposition, pay more regard to
what concerns themselves individually, than what concerns
the public at large. Where a man is born for a particular
sphere, as is the case in the artificial systems of the old
world, he might possibly find sufficient time to watch over
the public interests, but he could have no inducement to
employ it for that purpose. But here every man seems to
be born in the way of an experiment to see what he will
make of himself, and life is found an up-hill course for all
who travel its thorny path. They all start at the same
point, and wealth and honors are scattered along the ac-
clivity that lies before them, apparently within the grasp of
every one, and yet only to be gathered by toil and vigi-
lance and care.
76 MR WASHBURN'S LECTURE.
The consequence is, that few will withdraw their atten-
tion from the glittering objects of their pursuit to what is
remote from their personal views, or stop to settle abstract
political principles while they are acting upon the so much
stronger principle of personal aggrandizement. The farmer
and mechanic, like every other citizen, is the founder of his
own fortune. Few begin with any other capital than an
ordinary education, correct principles and good health.
Andj if by unwearied industry and economy, any one finds
himself possessed of a competency, he finds too the demands
upon his resources keeping pace with his means, and even
if he can withdraw from the toil of active business, the
cares of life still cling to him too closely to allow him to
turn philosopher, or become a disciplined thinker. Nor is
the merchant or manufacturer in any better condition to
lead in matters of general politics. Business absorbs the
whole powers of his mind, and beyond the tariff that affects
his profits, or the state of the markets which affects his
prices, he cannot stop to settle opinions which he is will-
ing to adopt because, like his money, they are the currency
of the day. Even the professional man whose business it
is to think, to mingle and examine principles, will be found
but little belter situated to think for himself upon ques-
tions beyond the pale of his own profession, than the
laborer in the workshop or in the field.
No one has ever risen above mediocrity in his profession,
without feeling how much of his time is absorbed in the
peculiar sphere of thought and duty in which he moves.
And when we add to this the cares of earning a livelihood,
and the labor of sustaining the externals of a nominal rank
which the public in a measure demand, how few profes-
sional men are able to go out of the pulpit, the bar or the
round of medical duties to instruct themselves or others
upon matters of national policy or the multiplied relations
of government, of which everybody hears, and reads and
talks so much, and most of them knows so little.
The consequence of this is what might naturally be ex-
pected. All take an interest in what is going on around
them, and in one way or another acquire opinions upon
which they are willing to act. But they unconsciously
become copiers of others, and, without being willing to ac-
knowledge it, blindly follow where others lead.
INFLUENCE OF SCHOOL MASTERS. 77
Who has not seen this, again and again, operating upon
a whole community ? Let a man of wealth and address
become a citizen of any of our less considerable country
towns, and his influence soon fixes its stamp on everything
around him. If he is a man of taste and refinement,
whether these are manifested in the style of his buildings
or the ornaments of his grounds, his example is felt in a
general improvement in everything connected with taste in
his neighborhood. If on the other hand he is a free-
thinker, disregarding revelation and its sanctions, it lends
new courage to those who would denounce whatever is
sacred, and the whole tone of public sentiment there be-
comes debased.
I repeat, then, how slight, often, are the moving causes of
those tremendous outbreakings of public feeling which, to
a casual observer seem to be the spontaneous movement
of intelligent minds.
I do not say that the mass of the people never think, for
there are times when they seem to scrutinize with great
care, the correctness of doctrines which are afloat in the
world. Indeed the theory of our government is, that
the people will always judge for themselves. But it is only
in times of deep excitement and well directed feeling, that
this theory is actually carried into practice. But, take the
public mind as we ordinarily find it, take men as we see
them, absorbed and wholly absorbed in their own pursuits,
and take the politics of the country as we find them when
there is no great cause of alarm nor immediate danger to
rouse the public attention, and how few, how very few are
the men who originate the notions which the public adopt
as their own and cling to, for the time being, as if they had
a rightful claim to the paternity of such opinions. And
who are these few? Are they the philosophers, the deep
thinkers, the political or classic scholars of the day ? Who,
in other words manage our elections ? for here we are to
seek the moving spring of the popular will.
The sober and quiet citizen who loves the calm of pri-
vate life better than the wrangles and brawls of political
strife, stands aloof, or comes to the polls only from a sense
of duty ; while the noisy sui)erficial demogogue, the bar-
room politician and the echoer of stale slang and worn out
abuse are left to be the organs of public opinion. Patriot-
78 MR WASHBURN'S LECTURE.
ism and love of country are made the catch words of party,
and the plaudits of a favorite leader, become identified with
the applause which is due to greatness and goodness alone ;
and the mere senseless hurra of a thoughtless multitude is
registered as the voice of an intelligent people. When
once an opinion has thus received a currency, it acquires a
force and stability, second, scarcely, to the immutable prin-
ciples of truth, and however base or worthless it may be,
still, if it bear the true political stamp, it thereby acquires
a currency that no one of the true faith ever thinks of -dis-
puting.
Fortunately this does not attain in anything else to the
extent that it does in politics, for in nothing else are the
leading passions of the mind so generally enlisted. Offices
and honors in our elective government are prizes held out
to the cupidity of all who will contend for them, and the
people themselves, like the trained elephant, lift upon their
own neck the master who has art enough to coax and flat-
ter them to take him for their guide.
Political truths do not seem to be like anything else that
passes for truth. In science and even in morals there are
certain principles which may be considered as settled,
because no man in his sober senses thinks of attacking
them. But in politics, especially in the party politics of a
republic, innovation takes the character of discovery, and
change assumes the name of improvement. Those who
attempt to introduce a change in the political state of a free
people have a decided advantage over those who are con-
tent with the existing state of things, and revolutions in
popular opinions are often effected by the mere dint of
restless activity on the part of a few, while the great mass
of the people are but passive spectators of the change, or
become parties to it by suffering their feelings and preju-
dices, to be enlisted where their judgments were never em-
ployed.
Among the means of moving public feeling there is no
engine so powerful as the press. Where every body reads
and in every house a newspaper is found, the influence of
a periodical press is immeasurably great. A partisan press
IS in fact the lever by which every sect and party endeavors
to overcome opposing obstacles, and wo to that man or that
cause against which this is directed, if it be not sustained
INFLUENCE OF SCHOOL MASTERS. 79
by a power of equal force. Hence every sect and party
and denomination has its newspaper, which receives and
reflects the pecuhar character of the cause in which it is
engaged.
But while the press leads the popular will, it in its turn is
led and controled by the very power which it sets in mo-
tion. And who are the managers of this tremendous en-
gine, the partisan press ? Who fill the columns of our
daily journals with praise or denunciation of public men
and public measures ? Who replenish the fountain which
through its thousand streams, supplies the thirst for know-
ledge and excitement which pervades the community ? To
many of these, I wish I could say all, I cheerfully accord
the respect which is due to industry, intelligence and integ-
rity. But to others and not a few, no other praise is due
than faithfulness and subserviency in the cause of a party
however dangerous or despicable. And the danger is, lest
the public may not discriminate between the opinions of the
honest and those of the knavish politician. If it is printed,
it passes for truth with many minds, however wicked or
absurd a doctrine may be.
It is for this reason, we so often see opinions the most
dangerous and extravagant obtaining advocates, for a time,
and even when an absurdity to which the public mind may
have clung for awhile, has been exposed, it seems to be as
open as ever to delusion, and if we might judge mankind
by what we casually observe, we might safely affirm that
they love to be deceived.
But, whatever may be the means, if the people become
enlisted in partisan excitements, they cease to be masters
and become an unconscious instrument in the hands of the
master spirit that has aroused them. This has ever been
the case in popular governments. The people of Greece
and Rome supposed they were the state long after their
power had passed into other hands. When they had once
yielded up their passions to the guidance of those who
flattered them, they were ready to do the bidding of those
by whose arts they had been seduced. And whether it
was to banish Aristides, or to seize upon and divide the pos-
sessions of the rich under the plea of agrarian equality ; it
was all in the people's name, and by the people's will,
while they were forging the people's chains and annihilating
the people's liberties.
80 MR WASHBURN'S LECTURE.
Fortunately for our country, we have an advantage un-
known to the ancients in a written constitution of govern-
ment, which serves to limit the exercise of excited feeling
and to correct the standard of popular opinion. Our con-
stitution, however, can contain but comparatively a few and
those general propositions upon the subject of the govern-
ment and its powers, and these, as we have seen in our
own day, are open to whatever construction, honest integ-
rity may give upon the one side, or maddened zeal and
excited jealousy may form upon the other.
With all our security then from a written constitution,
with all the intelligence that is diffused through the commu-
nity, with all the aids to light and knowledge which are
scattered in every form by a most prolific and unbridled
press, we can nevertheless easily perceive that the subject
to which I have called your attention is one of great mo-
ment and difficulty. Guard it as we may, regulate it as
we will, popular sentiment will govern for the time being,
and nothing can preserve our government in its purity, our
institutions in their vigor, and our liberties secure but keep-
ing public opinion right.
But how, and by whom, is this to be done ? I answer,
and it is to this that what may have seemed a long digres-
sion, tends, that among the most efficient means by which
this is to be accomplished is the influence of the school
master. I use the term here in its broader sense, as em-
bracing all who are engaged in the business of instruction
including our higher seminaries and colleges. And in the
first place, the business of a school master implies educa-
tion, intelligence and habits of thought and reflection on
his part. In the next place it supposes that his walk in
life does not bring him in contact with those exciting causes
which operate to poison the minds and distort the judg-
ments of party leaders. He of course can view and weigh
the conduct and motives of such leaders, and detect the
actual tendency of their measures, whatever may be the
form in which they appear before the public, and without
mingling in, or becoming party to the strife of rival (actions,
or departing from the path of his own appropriate duties
he may appeal to the reason of the public and spread
before them the true character of their would-be leaders
and of the schemes which they would impose upon the
people's credulity.
INFLUEKCE OF SCHOOL MASTERS. 81
1 look forward to the time when the science of govern-
ment, so long neglected, but so eloquently and appropriately
recommended, the last year, before this association, will
become a part of the common education of every citizen.
We have ceased to depend upon a foreign supply for the
class books of our schools, and it is time that with Ameri-
can books, we should be able to teach Americans this most
important branch of science, so that our citizens shall no
longer be obliged to depend upon the columns of a party
newspaper or the turgid paragraphs of Fourth of July ora-
tions, to settle the principles of our free constitution. And
fortunately for our country, the necessary text books for
the acquisition of this science are now supplied to the pub-
lic. The " Political Class Book," and the "Commentaries
upon the Constitution," supply safe and judicious manuals
forour schools and higher seminaries, which must leave the
citizen without excuse who shall hereafter pass through the
discipline they impart, and be made a dupe of the knave or
empiric in politics.
When this science shall be committed to the school mas-
ter, he will of necessity be led to examine and settle princi-
ples, and enforce, before his classes, opinions which are to
guide them in after life ; and if, while he is doing this, he
shall sow good seed, it will spring up and choke the
poisonous product of the demagogue's labors.
But we need not wait till a new generation is educated.
The school master may begin his work to-day. The people,
with all the appearances to the contrary, do not intention-
ally cherish wrong opinions. The very reason that they
are so often misled is the consciousness, which so many of
them feel, that they are not prepared to form a true estimate
of matters of doubtful policy. And if they are misled by
the artful wiles or the boisterous confidence of the dema-
gogue, it is not they who seek him for a guide, it is he who
courts and follows them, and if worthless opinions become
current, it is because there are so few who can or will dis-
tinguish the genuine from the counterfeit.
If then a class as numerous as that which is engaged in
the business of education, whose hold upon the confidence
and affections of parent as well as child is as strong as
theirs, would lend the light of their own minds to guide
the people aright, they would not be found so often
Jl
82 MR WASHBURN'S LECTURE.
going astray, public opinion would not be the proverbially
fickle thing it now is, nor would it veer and shift with every
new wind of doctrine.
liCt no man call this visionary or fanciful. Where lies
the difficulty in the case? That the school master has suf-
ficient integrity to be a safe guide, few can doubt, for of all
fields, the school room with its round of unpretending
duties, would be the last for personal or political knavery
to flourish in. In the next place as a class, they have better
opportunities than most men, if they would but improve
them, to become safe and competent guides in matters of
general policy. Nor is it necessary to become embroiled in
feuds and controversies in order to understand or enforce
the true principles of politics and government. They have,
moreover, peculiar facilities of access to the minds of the
people by being of them and among them, which furnish
opportunities to instil into the minds of the young as well
as of the old the doctrines which they would enforce, and
the press is open to them, through which to disseminate
and defend these opinions.
These advantages may be enjoyed by the school master
beyond any other class of literary or professional men.
He has fewer jealousies to encounter, his time is more sys-
tematically divided, and the regularity of his pursuits pre-
sents fewer interruptions to his thoughts and investigations
than most others who are actively employed in the business
of life. The clergymen, for instance, is by a tacit under-
standing, withdrawn from the field of politics. If a law-
yer ventures to enter it, his motives are at once suspected
as being selfish, and few physicians have time or inclina-
tion to give up the pursuit of natural science to solve the
dry and often abstruse problems which grow out of the
social and political state of man.
As for a class of purely literary men in our country, they
never have been and never can be sustained. It has been
supposed that when our country grows older, the field of
mental labor will be more accurately divided, and the pro-
fessed scholar will take the rank which his importance
merits. But though generations pass away, our country, so
far as the personal relations of individuals in society are
concerned, does not and will not grow any older than it
now is. Where every man has to found his own fortune
anew, and distinctions are not to be acquired save by per-
INFLUENCE OF SCHOOL MASTERS. 83
sonal effort, the genius of everything is and will be practi-
cal in its character. Utihty becomes the test of value, and
few will ever be able to live by merely literary pursuits.
Whoever would cultivate literature, must connect with it
some employment which pays him what the laborer, an i,
in our country the laborer only, is thought worthy of, his
hire. Everything is graduated by dollars and cents, and
genius can only live by bringing its wares to market, while
enterprise and public spirit are forever busy in seeking out
objects of profit and gain. The wilderness falls before
them, the utmost bounds of the ocean are traversed by
them, and time and space are well nigh annihilated by the
triumphs of enterprise and art.
" These are not the romantic times,
So beautiful in spurious rhymes —
— Lord Stafford mines for coal and salt,
The Duke of Norfolk deals in malt,
The Douglas in red herrings
And noble name and cultured land
Palace and Park and vassal band
Are powerless to the notes of hand
Of Rothschild or the Barings."'
I do not intend to say that individuals are not found in
every honorable profession and employment, who do not
exercise a decidedly salutary control over public sentiment.
I would have the school master become a co-worker with
these, I would have him carry from this very association of
the friends of education, a warmer zeal and a firmer pur-
pose to make his profession as high and influential over
society at large, as it is useful and important in forming
the individual character.
The sophists of Athens might show how the school mas-
ter may corrupt a nation beyond the power of philosophy
to redeem, and the general intelligence of New England,
as compared with the old world, may show the influence
which the village and district school exerts upon a com-
munity.
In addition to all that has been urged at this time, there
are some traits in the political character of the times which
demand the attention of every liberal and cultivated mind.
There is a radical spirit at work which would break down
everything that is stable and respectable in our institutions.
There is a prevalent disposition to level down everything
84 MR WASHBURN'S LECTURE.
to a certain standard, and that standard is the point in the
scale where the reformer happens himself to stand.
There are those who, with Jack Cade, would " hang him
with his pen and ink-hor» about his neck," who " can
write and read and cast accounts," especially if taken, like
the clerk of Chatham, " setting of boy's copies." Let a
crusade be preached against wealth, or letters, or whatever
else renders a class of men obnoxious to the envy of little
minds, and there are neither wanting leaders nor followers
to carry on the enterprise. Under the influence of this
spirit, the very household words of our childhood change
their meaning. Ill-natured indolence, too proud to labor,
puts on the guise of the '• working man," and denounces
the toil of the scholar, and above all of the professional
man, as dangerous or idle. And the thriftless heir who
lives in luxury upon his father's hoarded thousands, or en-
grafts himself, by matrimonial alliance, upon some wealthy
stock, decries the " accumulator," as an object of public
odium, and rides into political favor by the juggling trick
of pretending one thing and practising another.
It is true we hear much of education ; and universal and
equal education, at the public charge, is the cant word of
the day, and many honest minds are deluded by so plausi-
ble a pretence. But what sort of education would they
diffuse who would scout the bible as a fable, and break in
pieces the frame work of society ? Of what use would
schools or school masters be when laws should no longer
be respected, and pre-eminence, even in intellectual gifts,
would only serve to mark its possessor as a victim of radical
proscription.
I do not mean to speak harshly of even the misguided
factionist. But they who foment this odious spirit of pro-
scription, who delude the popular mind by appeals to
groundless prejudices, who would cut away the anchor of
the good man's hopes, at the same time that they would
annihilate the rights of property, and convert the social
state of man into that of lawless rapine, are worthy only
of the honest execrations of every man who loves his
country or would defend her honor.
This war which the lawless of every age have been ready
to wage against superiority of any kind, whether of wealth,
of public confidence, or ofi ntellectual endowments, is one
INFLUENCE OF SCHOOL MASTERS. 85
from which literary men, and especially the school master,
ought not to shrink. So far as it regards them, it is a war
of extermination. "Away with him — he speaks Latin,"
is a sentiment that has survived the age which gave it ut-
terance, and they have but carelessly observed the laws of
human action who suppose that in the progress of that in-
discriminate reform which is to reduce the inequalities of
society to the unbroken level of undistinguished equality,
the scholar or the man of letters can escape the march of
the crushing wheels of this political Juggernaut.
Under our government every man has a duty to perform
in preserving whatever is valuable in our institutions. It
is a law of nature that nothing worth enjoying can be pre-
served without vigilance and effort, and no man, however
humble his rank or condition may be, may not make his
influence felt in the circle in which he moves. But in the
labors of the literary men of our country the world itself
has a deep stake. To them, in no small degree, is com-
mitted the all important charge of keeping alive the sacred
fire of knowledge, in the light of which alone can liberty
flourish.
Men may deny the truth of revelation, but there is, at
least, sound philosophy in every page of the book that
contains its records. And when the author of our religion
told his chosen companions that they were to be the " salt
of the earth," and " the light of the world," it was but a
metaphorical representation of that influence which the
example and opinions of men of virtue and intelligence
always exert upon the character of society around them.
Without profaning this figure, we may boldly claim for
the school master a position in society from which, as his
own character may be, he sheds a baleful or healthy light
on everything around him.
We hear, almost every day, fears expressed that the
Catholics will educate the West, and plant their schools all
over the wide valley of the Mississippi. But mere learning
and education are certainly among the last things for a New
England community to dread, and if the danger stopped
there, we might bless the memory of his holiness for every
fresh supply of bounty to our western brethren. If there
is danger from this quarter, it is to result from the influence
which the resident school masters and clergy will almost
86 MR WASHBURN'S LECTURE.
necessarily exert over the minds and opinions of the com-
munity with whom they mingle and associate, and not
from the mere communication of knowledge within the pre-
cincts of the school house.
I leave, however, to others to settle matters of reli-
gous faith, and have only alluded to the Catholic operations
at the West, in order to illustrate the influence of the
school master as a citizen upon the community around him.
I might wear away still another hour and yet but half
exhaust the illustrations of which our subject is susceptible.
It grows in interest and extent the longer we examine its
bearings upon our dearest interests and relations. Who
can look upon this association and those who come to-
gether on occasions like the present, and not feel that the
opinions they may form and the sentiments they may im-
bibe, when scattered and diffused in the community
through which they are spread, will and, of necessity,
must, produce an influence whose extent cannot be meas-
ured. And if this be true of them individually, how much
more strength is there in union, how much greater must be
the confidence and courage which grow out of the con-
sciousness of sympathy and good fellowship which such
meetings as these awaken, and how many a sombre hour
of seemingly thankless toil may be brightened by the recol-
lection of the hours which are here devoted to the duties,
the character and the influence of the school master ?
And when he looks around him and sees who is engaged
in the work of elevating and improving society, he feels
that his influence is not dissipated or lost. When he looks
at the old world, he sees that the school master is in fact
abroad. In Prussia despotism itself has become his patron,
and the child of the emancipated serf is drinking in at the,
till late, forbidden fountain, the invigorating waters of
knowledge and truth. All over the continent there are
minds at work in the great cause of education. England
with all her reverence for antiquated forms and with all her
tenacity upon established systems, has felt the impulse of
modern improvement through all her social elements, and
when the school master shall have done his work there,
though names may not change, there will be a new face
upon society. Though the king may still wear his crown,
though the lord may still traverse his wide domain, the
INFLUENCE OF SCHOOL MASTERS. 87
people, the oppressed, the uneducated, the taxed and pau-
per-stricken people, will have taken the rank to which
knowledge and intelligence elevate the man.
The time is coming when knowledge will change the
political aspect of the world, when the human mind will
not be enslaved, when it will break away from the darkness
in which it has been chained, and be free in the light of
political and religious truth. It may not come till we
shall have gone to our account, but whoever shall have
been engaged in the business of educating the generation
that is to fill our places, may rejoice in the conscious as-
surance that, humble as their sphere may have been, the
world will have been made better and happier and freer by
their labors for its good.
. .^^-
LECTURE IV.
THE STATE AND PROSPECTS
GERMAN POPULATION OF THIS COUNTRY.
BY H. BOCKUM.
12
k
GERMAN POPULATION OF THIS COUNTRY.
Thk distinction between the German and American
population in this country, does not consist, as some might
suppose, in the latter being born on this side of the Atlantic,
whilst the native land of the former is Germany ; but in
the fact that not only the natives of Germany, but also the
descendants of German emigrants, as long as they retain
the use of the German language, are embraced under the
general appellation, of the "German population."
It is owing to the peculiar manner in which this foreign
element has become an integral part of the American peo-
ple, that it is out of our power to obtain an exact statistical
view of this population. About a hundred and fifty years
ago, the first body of the German emigrants removed from
the State of New York to Pennsylvania, because they could
not agree with the Dutch settlers, who then had entire
possession of the valleys of the Hudson and the Mohawk.
P>om that time until the present, great numbers of Ger-
mans have arrived every year on our shores, and in many
instances have intermingled so entirely with the English
portion of the community, that it has been found impracti-
cable to take an exact census of them.
It may suffice, then, that thousands and tens of thou-
sands of this German population are spread over almost
all the different parts of the Union ; and that the influx of
German emigrants, has been, and is much more rapid, than
the progress of the English language could be, in a com-
munity whose national predilections have become prover-
bial.
In directing our attention to the descendants of Germans,
we find that a very small portion has carefully fostered
those principles of religious and intellectual cultivation.
92 MR BOCKUM'S LECTURE.
which their forefathers had imbibed in their own country,
whilst the great majority, from reasons which we shall
endeavor to state, have not only been deprived of the light
which their fathers enjoyed, but have been likewise excluded
in a great measure, from the influences which operate favor-
ably on the religious, moral, and intellectual state of the
American people.
It is well known that the great mass of the first Ger-
mans, consisted of redemptioners, who fled from the
oppression to which they had been subject in their native
country. It is also known that by perseverance and
industry, they succeeded in benefiting the country which
had received them hospitably, and that they obtained a
rich return from the produce of their agricultural labors ;
but it is far less known, how little their religious and moral
state corresponds to their physical well-being. The fre-
quent and entire want of instruction, the necessity of
gaining their livelihood by great and uninterrupted efforts,
and the slow but certain rewards which they obtained from
the ground they cultivated, has been the cause that they
seem to have become incapable of raising their eyes from
that ground, to Him, who gave them both " to will and to
do according to his good pleasure." The situation of their
ministers almost prevents their usefulness, when they have
to attend to the spiritual wants of six or seven congrega-
tions ; and attempts at extending to them other means of
religious instruction, have but too often met with decided
opposition, and sometimes have excited the most unex-
pected and unaccountable suspicions. A very devoted
and benevolent friend of mine, for instance, endeavored
some time since to form a Sabbath School near the banks
of the Lecha. For a long time he could not ascertain why
his efforts were so little encouraged, until he finally was
informed that he was suspected of forming this school with
a view of increasing the tolls of the bridge over which the
children had to pass.
The state of morality, you may easily imagine, cannot be a
very high and elevated one, where religion has so little prac-
tical influence. Though the love of self does in some cases
apparently supply the want of the purer principles of a
heartfelt religion ; though, — thanks to habit and constitu-
tion — they fulfil conscientiously many of the common
I
GERMAN POPULATION OF THIS COUNTRY. 93
duties of life, it is certain that they have no pledge suffi-
ciently sacred, by which they might be prevented from
trespassing as often as opportunity and inclination should
tempt. It is not the law of God, but the law of man which
they respect, and he who does not incur the penalty of the
latter, may habitually sin against the former, and yet enjoy
the respect and support of his neighbors. So it happens,
that the want of that virtue, the high conception of which
is peculiarly characteristic of the American daughters, is
regarded both by parents and children with levity or indif-
ference.
" Vice is a monster of so frightful mien,
As to be dreaded needs but to be seen ;
But, seen too oft, familiar with her face,
We first endure, then pity, then embrace."
When you enter the sequestered valleys, or approach
the habitations of the early settlers, where every new view
presents an enchanting picture, and every step suggests a
poetical thought, as long as you are only occupied with
inanimate nature ; the degraded character of the inhabi-
tants of these beautiful regions, forms but too sad and
striking a contrast.
This general want of moral excellence, however, becomes
most obvious to the eye of the stranger, when it is openly
exhibited by those whose duty it is to be the foremost in
opposing the current ; when the intemperate and the dis-
solute foreigner is entrusted with the education of the
young, and when thus his own vices are engrafted on the
susceptible minds of his pupils.
Even now, you may imagine that you see one of these
unfortunate beings, slowly moving along on the hilly road.
He seems uncertain whether he is to enter the village be-
fore him, when suddenly his eyes meet with an advertise-
ment, which he sees nailed over the door of the little village
church. A teacher is wanted, he finds, who is able to read
and to write ; the committee of examination is to meet at
nine o'clock in the school-room. Just then he hears the
village clock striking, and without further hesitation, he
enters the room appointed. After he has given them a fic-
titious account of his own merits, a newspaper is handed
to him, which he reads without difficulty; he is then made
to copy a certain portion of it, and satisfies the examiners
94 MR BOCKUM'S LECTURE.
beyond description. They are about to consult whether
they ought to give him the appointment, when he inquires
with a satirical smile, whether their children are not to be
instructed in cyphering. " Certainly," replies one ; " Most
undoubtedly," another. " Then please to examine me on
the rule of three." " The rule of three ?" asks the speaker,
with a ghastly countenance and moves slowly backw ards ;
"the rule of three !" re-echoes the whole council, and suc-
ceed in gaining an advance of their leader, until finally the
candidate is left alone with the children, who have been
merry spectators of the scene. Where cases of this kind
are of frequent occurrence, it is a matter of congratulation,
that the schools are only open during three or four of the
winter months, since during the remainder of the year the
labor of the children is wanted on the farms of their parents.
Nay, it may even be considered a fortunate circumstance,
that many of the Germans are opposed to having their
children read and write, because they think that it opens
the way to every kind of iniquity ; but on the other hand,
we shall feel truly sorry when we hear how little hope there
is of a reformation, and how strongly and unanimously they
oppose a sound and general system of education. But a
few years ago, for instance, an attempt was made to gain
the influence of the rich German farmers in favor of a sys-
tem of taxation, as it has been established in our State.
" If we have a general system of taxation," was their short
but logical reply, " the children of the rich and the children
of the poor will have the same means of being educated.
It is likewise certain that the children of the poor will have
time to go to school, whilst the children of the rich are
employed eight months out of twelve on their farms.
The children of the poor, therefore, will obtain thrice as
much learning as the children of the rich ; in the course of
time they will be sent to Congress, they will obtain all the
good offices, and will finally rule over the children of the
rich. This shall never be the case !"
If after these preliminaries, you should yet be desirous
of becoming more intimately acquainted with them ; if you
should wish to visit them at their fireside, and to listen to
their social effusions, you will be still more confirmed in
the conviction, that the state of this great majority of the
American Germans does not admit of any extended com-
GERMAN POPULATION OF THIS COUNTRY. 93
parison wilh the general character of either America or
Germany. Although externally the little cottage which
you are about to enter, is unadorned and even unpainted,
and is generally thrown into the shade by the spacious and
extensive barn which you see by its side, you will find that
its interior is not without all the substantial physical com-
forts to which you may have been accustomed. Nor is the
reception with which you meet, however rough and uncer-
emonious, wanting in heartfelt hospitality. Soon, however,
you are reminded, that in one sense of the word at least,
you are not at home. The wild hunter, you are told, has
last night been holding his spectral chase through the forest,
and has made himself known to the inhabitants of the cot-
tage by a strange clapping of the window shutters; nor
has the horse-shoe, which you saw fixed over the outer
door, proved a sufficient protection against the visiters of
the Blocksberg. Likewise, a blue-light has been seen for
several successive evenings in an adjoining meadow ; and
the question is very gravely discussed, whether the inmates
of the cottage should sally forth that evening and dig for
secret treasures. The consultation, however, is interrupted
by the sudden indisposition of one of the family. Imme-
diately the pow-wow physician is called, for Indian and
German superstitions have become intimately associated
in the mind of your hosts. On a tripod, in one corner of
the room, pieces of wood are placed according to the pe-
culiar laws of the Doctor's art, and by the burning of a
charm the patient is to be freed from every pain.
The amusement, however, which at first these strange
proceedings afforded to you, soon wears off, and you
turn round to the book-shelf to seek relief there from the
humiliating trains of thought which these occurrences
have suggested to you. The Bible, some books on dream-
ing and witchcraft, and one or two German newspapers,
form the whole stock. In glancing at the latter, you meet
with another piece of Americo-Germanism : German words
with English terminations, or the reverse. Their inter-
course with Germany, however, has obviously been inter-
rupted for many a year, since the few new thoughts which
the progress in science and art has conveyed to them, are
entirely expressed in the English language. It is princi-
pally owing to this circumstance, and to the fact that there
96 MR BOCKUM'S LECTURE.
is but very little intercourse between the different settle-
ments, that the dialects spoken by them have few general
characteristics in common, and that they are entirely want-
ing in euphony. In many instances they are perfectly
unintelligible to those who have been educated in Germany.
But to return to our newspaper. It was at first only
the strange mixture of German and English words and
terminations which attracted your attention, more than the
matter itself. But how great is your astonishment, when
you find that the political news which the paper contains,
is the very opposite of what you happen to have read the
very same day in an English morning paper. Where such
glaring deceptions can be practised, it must be easy to
misguide the reading community, and a second glance at
the paper serves to establish this fact. You meet there
with a petition which opposes the interests of education,
and yet many of the signers have been compelled to make
three crosses, because they are unable to sign their names.
It is now time, however, to leave the farmer's cottage,
and to enter upon the more pleasing task of inquiring what
has been done for the improvement of the Germans, and in
what manner this cause may be further advanced. In
travelling through that part of the United States, which is
mostly settled by the descendants of Germans, you meet
from time to time with oases, as it were, in these fields,
which are as barren and neglected, in point of intellectual
culture, as they are fruitful and cultivated in agricultural
respects. There are a small number of institutions, which
have been mostly founded by those who have been brought
up in the midst of the Americo-German population, but
who by a constant intercourse with Germany, and with the
most intelligent portion of the English community, have
preserved themselves free from the evil influences by which
they are surrounded. They have founded seminaries and
colleges, and have gradually gained the confidence of their
German neighbors, whom they alone are able to approach.
Their lectures are partly delivered in German, and partly
in English, and the ministers whom they send forth, are
likewise taught to preach in either language. Such, for
instance, are the institutions at Gettisburg, Nazareth, and
a few other places. In Gettisburg, particularly, a spirit of
devoted piety and an enlightened zeal, has been, and is now
exerting in behalf of the Americo-German population.
GERMAN POPULATION OF THIS COUNTRY. 97
But it is not only the descendants of Germans, who are
to engage our attention ; the natives of Germany, who
have become naturalized in this country, and njany of
whom have settled in the cities, are as deserving of our
care, lest they should fall into that stale of rehgious and in-
tellectual apathy, whlcii we have before described. As
they are in a great measure beyond the influence of the
institutions referred to, German societies, together with
English and German libraries have been established in the
principal cities of the Union. The high and the low, the
rich and the poor, the cultivated and the uncultivated, are
thus brought into contact, and an opportunity is afforded
of attending to the intellectual and physical wants of those
who from their ignorance of the English language, are vir-
tually separated from the community around them. It
will thus become possible to open a regular intercourse
with the Western States, that to those emigrants who
wish to settle there, both instruction and physical comfort
may be in some measure secured.
It deserves particular attention, that these societies, as
well as the institutions of which I have spoken before, have
procured to some extent the means of English instruction
to the Americo-German population, that they may be
assimilated in a national point of view to the American
population, and that they may receive their share of the
favorable influences which prevail among the latter. These
efforts have been particularly successful in regard to those
emigrants, who have but lately come over to this country.
They have always enjoyed the benefits of religious instruc-
tion, and with a childlike readiness flock around Him
*' whose voice they know," whilst many of them, though
in the lower ranks of life, are well educated, and, for that
reason, prepared to receive instruction in the English lan-
guage.
But all these efforts have been but partial, and therefore
to a certain extent unsatisfactory. The torrent of eitiigra-
tion is pouring forth unceasingly so great a mass of foreign
elements, that only a general and careful attention to the
subject can preserve us from being carried along by its
floods. In an absolute monarchy, the intelligent and vig-
orous rule of the sovereign may preserve the virtuous and
cultivated from being directly influenced by the degraded
13
98 MR BOCKUMS LECTURE.
and ignorant ; in a republic, this is impossible. Under a
government where the law directs that he who does not
avail himself of the means of instruction, which are placed
at his command, shall be comytlkd to use them ; under
such a government, we have reason to suppose, that intel-
ligence is in a progressive state. In a country like ours, of
which the Italian " lasciar far," seems to be the appropriate
motto, the free and voluntary action of the intelligent part
of the community can alone secure that great result. We
have heard the warning voice of a well known foreign
writer. " Let the Americans beware," said he, " of ex-
tending the rights of naturalization indiscriminately to
foreign emigrants !" 'J'hough this may be justly said in re-
gard to all foreigners, it yet a|)[)lies with peculiar force to
the German popidation. It is likely, indeed, that in less
than half a century the Germans in Pennsylvania, Mary-
land and Virginia, will be almost entirely absorbed by the
English population, as has been the case with the Dutch in
the State of New York, and with the Swedes in Delaware.
Yet we do not owe this prospect to a decrease of emigra-
tion, as has been the case with the nations above referred
to, but to the fact that the Western States afford a wider
and more productive field to tlie agricultural pursuits of a
great majority of the emigrants. In the West, then, this
division of language and feeling, will continue to exist with
all its evil consequences, unless we use the means which
are yet in our power to prevent it, unless we attend care-
fully to the intellectual wants of those, whom we permit to
become members of our body politic.
LECTURE V.
RELIGIOUS EDUCATION
BY R. PARK.
i
RELIGIOUS EDUCATION.
Of all the blessings transmitted to us by our forefathers
of New England, perhaps none has proved more important
in its consequences, than the system of Common Schools.
To this system we are probably indebted for our civil and
religious liberty, and with it the general diffusion of know-
ledge, competence and contentment. It is the common
schools of New England which have made the mass of the
people more intelligent and happier than any other people
on the globe. How great then our obligation to husband
this rich legacy, and transmit it to our successors not only
unimpaired but improved ; in the hope that ere long our
whole country will realize the blessings of mental and moral
education.
Doubtless the system, like everything else of human ori-
gin, is yet imperfect. Much remains to be done, in intro-
ducing it where it has not yet been adopted, and enforcing
it where it has been ; — in the better education of teachers
for this profession, by seminaries adapted to the purpose ; —
in the improvement of school books on every useful subject,
both as to the matter and manner of instruction, so as to
make them worth preserving as a private library through
life; — in the further illustration of the exact sciences, by
means of specimens, instruments, and other apparatus ; —
in the formation of school libraries ; — and in the extension
of physical education, by gymnastic exercises, or by manual
labor in agriculture, or the mechanic arts, according to the
future destination of the pupils.
But there is another subject relating to the improvement
of schools, and to education in general, which has deeply
impressed my mind, and which has induced me to appear
102 MR PARK'S LECTURE.
before you, ladies and gentlemen, on this occasion. It is
the subject of Religious Education ; on which I feel the
more free to express my sentiments, because having em-
braced a profession which has once incurred the imputation
of neglecting religion and morality, I am willing to believe
that these remarks may derive incidental force from that
circumstance, and may possibly elicit more attention from
some minds than if emanating from the sacred desk or from
one of its consecrated ministers.
And first, permit me to disavow any sectarian or partial
object in the remarks which I have to offer, denying even
the wish that any one sect or party should predominate over
all the others. I believe that no sect is perfect, or so free
from prejudice and error as to be safely entrusted with the
keeping of other men's consciences. So frail and selfish is
human nature, that I fear there is no safeguard to religious
as well as civil liberty, except in the division of sects,
watchful of each other, and thereby mutually armed against
the approach of intolerance. On the other hand, there is
no sect of professed Christians which does not more or less
imbibe the pure principles of its divine Master ; none which
is not more refined, moralized and beatified by following
his perfect example : and I believe that any one of their
creeds is better than irreligion or indifference. While,
therefore, I regret these differences of opinion, as a neces-
sary evil, consequent on the imperfections of humanity, I
only advocate the cause of Christianity divested of human
traditions and extraneous inventions ; I only advocate the
great truths and precepts of the New Testament, as the
foundation of social order and morality, of temporal as
well as eternal happiness.
If there be any one in this enlightened assembly who
denies the sanction of this only pure code of ethics, I would
beseech him to pause and reflect before it be too late. If
in the life or the doctrines of our Saviour, there were aught
to disapprove — if his motives could be imputed to priest-
craft, or his actions accused of selfishness, or his doctrine
suspected of insincerity — then might I be silent. But if,
on the contrary, " he spake as never man spake," then surely
it becomes us to receive him as he declared himself, the
Son of the living God.
But, perhaps, he whom I address has advanced still
I
I
RELIGIOUS EDUCATION. 103
fartFier, and has come to the conclusion, with the French
Revolutional Assembly, that " There is no God, and death
is an eternal sleep." Heaven grant that his doctrine be
not the means of sending him to that sleep as theirs did
them ! — for who can doubt that the cold-blooded murders
by which most of them fell, were the legitimate conse-
quences of this doctrine ? Well has Pope said,
" A little learning is a dangerous thing ;
Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring."
To him who looks forward to a bright world of happiness,
now shrouded in mystery, but where then we shall know
as we also are known — to him all the knowledge that
relates to this world is but a little learning. The immortal
motto of Solon, one of the seven wise men of Greece, was,
•' know thyself." But who can fully know himself without
knowing his Maker, and feeling his dependence on that
Being for life and all its blessings ? Short sighted reason
observes the nearer operations of the deity ; discovers his
secondary and subordinate agents ; regards them as causes
which are only effects ; and, after tracing a few links of the
chain, sees no farther, stops short, concludes that she has
reached the end and seen all ; yet perceives not the first
cause, and therefore denies it. Fatal mistake ! As So-
crates, after a long life of study, only came to know that he
knew nothing; as Newton, after discovering one more link
in the great chain, still seemed as one merely gathering
pebbles on the shore of the great ocean of knowledge ; so
the more we know ourselves, the more shall we distrust
ourselves, the more perceive our little learning ; and, ad-
mitting our inability to fathom those depths of which we
realize the existence, we shall come at length to feel that
there is a God, by the very mystery in which he has veiled
himself; — ^ we shall learn to adore him in his works, to
receive his revelation, and shall prepare ourselves shortly
to be ushered into his immediate presence.
This is not the time nor the place for an argument on
the evidences of Christianity. It is enough to know that
they have been examined by the profoundest minds, and
elucidated by the ablest pens, so clearly, so incontrovertibly,
as to convince every candid inquirer that Christianity is
indeed a reality, on which depends our eternal welfare.
104 MR PARK'S LECTURE.
And I will add my belief, that it has done more for the
civilization of our race, for the amelioration of its sufferings,
and the advancement of its happiness, than all other visible
causes combined. I believe, moreover, that it is the only
sure basis of morality ; the only efficient sanction to any
code of civil polity ; the only adequate restraint of our evil
propensities; the sheet anchor, which alone can stay us
from shipwreck, amid the storms of passion. Go to our
prisons, and you will find that their miserable inmates are
those whose early religious education was either neglected,
or so perverted as to destroy its good effect, by prejudicing
them against its precepts, or giving them a false, inadequate
idea of its duties. Look, on the other hand, among the
most worthy, virtuous and happy of our citizens, and you
will recollect that they were the early subjects of a religious
education, or at least of the hallowing influence of piety.
It is then of vital importance to our country, that all the
rising generation should be instructed in the principles and
practice of true religion, as the sum total of virtue and
morality. And the impression must be made early, or it
will be too late. If we do not sow good seed, the enemy will
sow tares. If we do not insist on religious instruction, the
youth will naturally conclude that we attach little impor-
tance to it ; and he will attach still less. Not only must
we give the instruction, but enforce it by our example.
The dullest pupil will detect and despise the hypocrisy
which points one way, but moves the other ; while few will
be so discriminating as to receive the right doctrine, and
reject the wrong practice. None but a truly pious man is
fully qualified to be a teacher of piety ; though none should
decline the duty from a consciousness of deficiency. That
consciousness is the first step to reformation ; and the
teacher has a new inducement to self-cultivation, that he
may the better perform his duty to his pupils-
Much of the value of religious instruction will depend on
the manner of imparting it. Not as a dull, cold formality,
a mere ceremony in which the heart has no concern ; not
thus should we infuse the words of eternal truth. Not thus
had St Paul preached to the Church of Ephesus, when he
said to its assembled elders, at their last solemn meeting,
" Therefore watch, and remember that by the space of three
years, I ceased not to warn every one, night and day, with
RELIGIOUS EDUCATION. 105
tears," — (Acts xx. 31.) An earnest, sincere and benevo-
lent manner, arising from a deep interest in the happiness
of the pupil, is doubtless an essential requisite. It is hard
to teach, still harder to influence favorably, one who does
not regard us as an interested friend.
It will be said, then, " Who is more suitable and respon-
sible for the performance of this duty, than the parents and
relatives of tlie young pupil in whose welfare they have so
deep a stake ?" And I admit the sentiment. In my view
the parent who neglects the religious education of his child,
might as well suffer him to wander filthy and ragged in the
streets, I mean to say that, after providing for the wants
of the body, he has still done less than half his duty, and if
he does no more than this, his child is still exposed to ruin,
unless some kinder friend shall be the providential agent
for pointing out to him the only l"oad to safety and happi-
ness. — And how shall the anxious parent fulfil his task ?
Is it not by setting an example for his children, of pure
conduct, well governed temper, and Christian benevolence?
Is it not by giving them sound instruction in a familiar
manner, and seizing the daily occurrences of life, from
which to extract lessons of virtue ? Is it not by availing
himself of those leisure moments — those happy, blessed
moments of domestic intercourse, which are the delight of
every well regulated family — to awaken and develope their
better feelings, their social and religious affections, and to
carry their thoughts forward from the things of time and
sense to the eternal home of the disembodied spirit? Is it
not by leading them in due time to the school room and
the sanctuary ; there to develope and exercise their noblest
faculties? Is it not by watching over them without seem-
ing to watch ; discovering the earliest symptoms of error,
and by gentle means, if possible, by any means, if neces-
sary, guarding them from contamination ? Is it not equally
by encouraging their virtuous efforts with all the warmth of
a parent's affection ? Is it not by furnishing them with
such books and such company as may assist both to form
their intellects and to improve their hearts ? And, finally,
is it not by reading with them the words of sacred truth,
and leading them to communion with the author of their
being in humble, penitential, grateful prayer?
I address particularly those who bear the sacred relation
14
t'-'Z.
106 MR PARK'S LECTURE.
of mothers. Yours are the deep fountains of feeling and
sympathy for your offspring, which no drought can exhaust
and no mortal ken can fathom. Your lives, in them re-
newed, in them are concentrated ; and on their welfare
greatly depends your future happiness or misery. Therefore,
to you more than to all others, has Providence wisely com-
mitted the training of their infant minds; that as they grow
in beauty, strength and goodness, you may reap the reward
of your labor. Nature has given you their affections, as
the tie by which you may lead them to virtue and usefulness.
Form their tempers, then, to patience and obedience, the
pillars which support the arch of moral government, and
all the rest will be easy, if you know and pursue the path
of duty. With parental love and obedience, and a patient
temper, what may we not expect at the hand of careful
cultivation !
But as the youth advances to manhood, and looks abroad
in the world, he comes under other influences, which may
change the direction of his life, for good or for evil. Hith-
erto he has paid implicit respect to his parents, and their
opinions have been his constant guide. Now he begins to
hear other and contradictory opinions, which are in danger
of perverting his best intentions, and unsettling his sound-
est principles, unless they are fixed on the firm basis of
rational conviction. The parent should therefore forewarn
him of these dangers, and thus forearm him against them.
Tell him that there have been unbelievers in Christianity,
but let him also know how few they were. Show him that
some of them were weak men, who led very reputable lives,
but yet lost the enjoyment of religion — the hope of heaven,
and died like the brutes that perish. Show him that some
of them were obstinate and perverse men ; too proud to
yield their opinion either to the voice of reason or the whis-
perings of conscience, till death opened their ears to the
truth, and humbled their pride in the dust. And add, that
others were profligate, depraved men, who drowned the
sense of truth in vain dissipation, or presumptuous sin, till
they left the world like demons, with yellings, imprecations
and despair. Let him realize all this, and he will be guard-
ed against atheism.
At this stage of life particularly, should the sacred desk
become the powerful advocate of religious truth. To this
W*"-"^
RELIGIOUS EDUCATION. 107
end, the faithful minister will frequently adapt his sermons
to the youthful understanding, and thus corroborate the
instruction of parents at home. Numerous occasions will
be presented for opening their minds to a practical view of
their duties and obligations, preparing them for the labors
and trials of life, and teaching them to remember their
Creator in the days of their youth.
But though the minister and the parents have performed
their duty, and still more so if they have not performed it,
there devolves on the school master a weighty charge in
building the fair fabric of manhood. To the teacher I now
address myself. You have it in your power to second the
efforts of anxious parents; or you may thwart and counter-
act tneir wishes. You may sow the seeds of usefulness and
happiness in the minds of their offspring, or you may leave
the uncultivated field to teem with thorns, and thistles, and
noxious weeds, ripening for destruction. Should you, a
few years hence, behold the blooming youth now committed
to your charge, then grown to manhood, mature in know-
ledge, sound in principle, correct in conduct, devoted in
piety, in favor with his brethren and his Maker — you will
feel the pulse of joy beat high in the reflection that you
have assisted in raising so goodly a palace to virtue and
usefulness — so glorious a temple to the Most High ! But
if, on the other hand, you shall behold your former pupil
wrapped in ignorance or indolence, neglectful of his moral
and social duties, degraded by vice or debased by crime,
a prey to lawless passions, a scorner of religion and blas-
phemer of his God ; — however little this picture may be
realized, and conscience reproach you as the cause, it will
bring sooner or later a pang of remorse, which you would
give worlds to remove.
Your employment is the noble one of instruction. And
what instruction can be more important, than that which
is necessary to make men Christians in heart as well as in
name ? Teach them to love their parents, their brethren
and connexions ; teach them to love their neighbor as
themselves ; but especially teach them to love the Lord
their God with all their heart, and soul, and strength ; for
this includes all moral virtue. Guard them against evil
example, in school and out of school, wherever your influ-
ence extends. Commune freely with their parents, con-
-.«?
^
108 MR PARKS LECTURE.
cerning their disposition, character and habits. Strengthen
their moral sense by the aid of reason, and convince them
that to be good is to be happy. Or if reason cannot pre-
vail, restrain them from mural obliquity by coercion and by
calling in the aid of parental authority. Warn them ol any
dangerous propensities, privately and earnestly ; and show
them by some striking example the awful consequences.
Reward their good conduct with explicit affection and ap-
probation.
Endeavor to correct their estimate of different objects
and pursuits, that they may appreciate these at the true
value. Teach them not to sacrifice for momentary indul-
gences, a good conscience and peace of mind, the happiness
of years to come. Teach them that in the performance of
their daily labors, the discharge of their social relations, the
government of their hearts and lives — in all this, if done
in the right spirit, they are proving themselves Christians,
inasmuch as they follow the example of the Saviour. Fi-
nally, teach them resignation and reliance on divine sup-
port, through reading the scriptures and prayer — the
channel through which flows every blessing from the foun-
tain of all good.
These lessons will not interfere with the lessons of science
which it is your province to teach ; on the contrary each
will assist the other. The study of nature is happily cal-
culated to raise the mind in contemplation of its divine
author ; and the mind that can reverence the author will
the more diligently study his works. Opportunities are
not wanting in the school room, to him who seeks them, for
enforcing moral principles. The reading lessons will con-
tinually suggest them, or may easily be selected for that
purpose; besides the occasions so often presented in the
maintenance of discipline. A well selected school library
will be a powerful auxiliary to religious instruction ; espec-
ially if the pupils' attention be often directed to those
authors who have devoted themselves to the amelioration
of our nature. Their voice, thus rescued from the tomb,
may reach the heart that is cold to the exhortations of the
living ; and thus life immortal spring anew from the grave.
Let me add, all this you may accomplish without pro-
scribing the tenets, or offending the prejudices, of any sect
of professed Christians. There is common ground, on
RELIGIOUS EDUCATION. 109
which they all meet, enough for you to occupy, without
disturbing the separate folds and enclosures which are their
places of retirement. It will perhaps be a duty to point
out the extremes of Christian doctrine ; but still you may
derive practical instruction from them all. Thus, whether
all mankind shall be saved or not, it is equally certain that
sin and irrehgion will entail suffering and sorrow, sooner or
later, for a long period or forever. Whether our baviour
be equal to the Father in dignity, or inferior, all must admit
that he was the Son of God, and that his gospel has a
divine, an eternal sanction. Whether the Holy Spirit were
an emanation from the Deity, or only an immediate n)iini-
festation of his power and presence, he will equally reprove
the world of sin, of righteousness, and of judgment to cf)me.
Whether salvation be by faith or by woiks, it is equally
through grace and the gift of God. Whether it be by pre-
destination or by special merit, we cannot know beforehand ;
and are equally bound to strive for pardon of sin, and |)urity
of life, awaiting the Lord's good pleasure. Whether bap-
tized by sprinkling or by immersion may be equally in obe-
dience to the divine ordinance, as consisting in the frame of
mind, and not in the outward application. And, finally,
whether the churches be united in their temporal govern-
ment, or separate; whether their ministers be bishops, or
priests, or elders, or deacons ; they may equally fulfil their
object herein promoting the happiness of believers till they
shall visibly be " one in Christ their Head." On these and
other points Christians may differ in opinion ; but all their
creeds profess the same object, and should produce the
same result. It should never be perceived by their conduct
to what sect they belong, except in their attendance at their
own place of worship. Not that it is a matter of indiffer-
ence what doctrines we embrace ; for some of them must
be wrong, and thus much weaken the vital strength of
religion. But what I deem of far greater importance, the
ground on which all should meet, is Christian practice.
This seems to me the best test of all doctrines ; the one
which our Saviour propounds when he says, " by their fruits
ye shall know them." And on this ground would I base
the religious instruction of youth. Their doctrinal views
will ripen with time, and may undergo changes ; their
practical principles should be fixed at once, and remain
ever after immutable as the laws of nature.
110 MR PARKS LECTURE.
I cannot close this brief address without raising my voice
in c;ommendation of Sabbath schools. I l)eheve ihein to
be anuiig the most efficieiii means which the age is employ-
ing for the diffusion of Christianity. In many cases they
have strengthened previous impres>ions, and have nourished
the seed sown in good soil till it brought forth a rich har-
vest of piety. They have reclaimed the abandoned, and
restored the profligate youth to respectability and usefulness.
Children taught in them have inverted the order of nature,
and taught their parents to embrace the religion of the
gospel. Parents visiting them have realized their value, and
have thus been induced to instruct their children, or to send
th m to the Sabbaili school. How much of vice, and
crime, and misery, would be spared ourcountry, were all its
yf)uth regularly engaged mgivmgor receiving instruction in
the Sabbath school! — Teachers of common schools, has
not the Sabbath a'so a claim on your services? Six days
of the week you have employed in teaching the knowledge
of this world ; should not the seventh f)e devoted to the
knowledge of the world which is to come? It is beautiful,
by lessons of human science, to prepare the mind for useful-
ness on earth: it is sublime and godi ke, by lessons of
divine truth, to prepare the enfranchised soul for the enjoy-
ment of eternal happiness in " the bosom of its Father and
its God."
LECTURE VI.
IMPORTANCE OF AN ACQUAINTANCE
WITH THE
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIND TO AN INSTRUCTOR.
BY J. GREGG.
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIND.
" Scientiis idem quod plantis. Siplanta aliqua uti in animo habeas, de radice
quid fiat, nil refert ; si vero transferre cupias in aliud solum, tutius est radicibus
uti quam surculis. Sic traditio, quae nunc in use est, exhibet plane tanquam
truncos (pulchros illos quidem) scientiarum ; sed tamen absque radicibus fabro
lignario certe conunodos, at plantatori inutiles.
" Quod si, disciplinae ut crescant, tibi cordi sit, de truncis minus sis solicitus ;
ad id curam adhibe, ut radices illsesse etiam cum aliqnantulo terras adhaerentis,
extrahantur ; dummodo hoc pacto et scientiam propriam revisere, vestigiaque
cognitionis tuae remetiri possis ; et eam sic transplantare in animum alienum,
sicut crevit in tuo." — Baco de Augmen. Scient. 1. vi. c. 2.
Translation. — " It is with science as with trees. If you purpose to make
some particular use of the tree, you need not concern yourself about the roots.
But iiyou wish to transfer it into another soil, it is then safer to employ the roots
than the scions. Thus the mode of teaching most common at present, exhibits
clearly enough the trunks, as it were, of the sciences, and those too of handsome
growth ; but nevertheless, without the roots, valuable and convenient as they un-
doubtedly are to the carpenter, they are useless to the planter.
" But if you have at heart the advancement of education, as that which proposes
to itself the general discipline of the mind for its end and aim, be less anxious
concerning the trunks, and let it be your care, that the roots should be extracted
entire, even though a small portion of the soil should adhere to them : so that at
all events you may be able, by this means, both to review your own scientific
acquirements, remeasuring as it were, the steps of your knowledge for your own
satisfaction, and at the same time to transplant it into the minds of others, just
as it grew in your own."
The Science of Education is the most profound and
important of all sciences. This is true, whether we con-
template it in its own intrinsic character, as being emphat-
ically the scientia scientiarum, or in its relative importance,
as the " appointed Protoplast of our true humanity." In
the former aspect, it comprehends as its objects whatever
can be known ; in the latter, it embraces as its subjects
whoever can be taught. It is the sun of the intellectual
and moral systems. It both draws all things to its centre,
and pours light and vital influence through all. It were
therefore desirable, if it were feasible, that an instructor
should know everything — should be both a master of
15
1 14 MR GREGG'S LECTURfi.
universal science, and perfectly acquainted with the nature
and capabilities of the human mind. But perfection
among finite creatures, is out of the question ; and the
problem now is, to approximate as near to it, as limited
powers and adverse circumstances will permit. No teacher
can know everything ; he must therefore be content to
know a few things well, and be guided in his selection
of sciences by their relative importance.
What place, then, in the regards of an instructer, should
be assigned to the Philosophy of the Mind ? This question
can be better answered, if a preliminary question be first
disposed of, viz: What is the Philosophy of the Mind ?
The answer to this latter question may be stated both
negatively and positively.
The Philosophy of the Mind is not — the system of Plato
or Aristotle, of Leibnitz or Locke, of Reid or Brown, of
Kant or Cousin. The labors of these men are not indeed
to be neglected or despised. Their contributions to the
stock of human knowledge have not been small. Each of
them (as well as other great names, which might be men-
tioned) has thrown out into the general currency, coins of
unadulterated purity and sterling value, stamped with his
own image and superscription, which will continue to be
received while the commerce of mind shall endure. For
these " productive ideas," they claim our reverence and
esteem. But they were not infallible ; they had not
sounded all the depths of the human mind, explored all its
recesses, or discovered all its hidden stores. Their systems
are not perfect. The very circumstance that most of thera
endeavored to make them complete, prevented their perfec-
tion. In the infancy of the science, observation had not
been sufficiently accurate or extensive to enable them to
construct an entire and perfect system. The materials
which they had collected, were too scanty ; and they
were obliged to complete them by analogical reasoning, as
comparative anatomists are wont to make out the descrip-
tion of an unknown and extinct species of animal, from a
single bone. To a head, it may be, of fine gold, and a
breast and arms of silver, they joined a belly and thighs of
brass, with legs of iron, and pieced out the feet with clay.
The consequence has been, that every professedly complete
lystem of mental philosophy is imperfect and defective.
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIND. 113
The grains of pure gold which each of them contains, are
blended with so many baser metals and earths, that it
requires in many cases almost as powerful a fusion to sep-
arate and reunite them, as crude ore from the mine would
need. It is not matter of wonder, then, that metaphysics
should have fallen into disrepute ; and that Intellectual
Philosophy should have become but another name for
barren and profitless speculation. It has always been
identified with some particular system, which was either
false or imperfect. It has been studied, not in the mind
itself, where alone it can be learned, but in text-books,
which either deceive, or tell but half the truth. The stu-
dent, hungering and thirsting after truth, has been fed
with the arid husks of scholastic systems ; when he has
asked for bread, he has received a stone; when he has
sought a fish, he has been mocked with a serpent.
The true system of mental philosophy ; that which be-
longs to no age or country, but is of all times and climes;
which is universally and absolutely true ; which describes
man as man, and commends itself to universal conscious-
ness, — this system has not yet been fully developed ; it
exists only in fragments, which are yet to be gathered and
reared into an edifice of strength and beauty — in scattered
and precious gems, which are yet to be collected and set
in a coronet of glory. The Philosophy of the Mind is not
mere Psychology. It does not consist merely in the obser-
vation and arbitrary classification of the phenomena or
conscious states of the mind. Such observations and class-
ifications are indeed useful in furnishing hints and data for
the discovery of laws, or philosophical principles. But to
be satisfied with such superficial inquiries into the intellec-
tual powers, is to feed on the mere rind and husks of
knowledge, and throw away the kernel. It is, indeed,
necessary to understand the phenomena of sensation and
reflection, — it maybe well, even to embody these phe-
nomena in a physical diagram or chart, as we represent the
appearances of the heavens ; but to rest in these intelligible
forms, and stop short of the laws and principles that govern
these phenomena, is as absurd as it would be to limit the
whole science of astronomy to the construction of an exact
picture or map of the heavens. The order of investigation
must be inverted. The senses must be made out of the
116 MR GREGG'S LECTURE.
mind, and not the mind out of the senses. The true prov-
ince of phenomena, is to suggest the latent principles ;
which principles will, as soon as discovered, explain the
phenomena. The process is strictly Baconian ; a process
of t/iduction, in contradistinction from one of deduction.
The principle is seen in the phenomenon — in one a»
well as in a thousand — and is not deduced from a mul-
titude of phenomena, by a process of abstraction. The
fall of a single apple suggested to Newton the law of grav-
itation. That law, once discovered, was a full explanation
of every similar phenomenon. Deduction can never ar-
rive at universal principles or laws. The results in this
process can never go beyond the data. The observation
of the fact that the sun. has risen every morning for a
thousand years, furnishes no absolute assurance that it will
rise tomorrow. But the truth thai the three angles of a
triangle are together equal to two right angles, is made as
certain by a single demonstration, as it could be by a thou-
sand. Apply now this illustration to the subject in hand.
A feeling of approbation or disapprobation is found to
arise in the mind in view of certain acts. The repetition
of these acts is found to excite uniformly the same feelings.
A strong presumption is therefore raised, that such feelings
will always accompany such acts. But if the observer rests
in the simple fact, and does not seek to ascertain the abso-
lute ground of the fact, he acquires no certain knowledge,
he fixes no invariable principle, he settles down upon no
immutable law. Instead of learning, as he may learn in a
single instance, the existence and the law of conscience,
and becoming rooted and grounded in the eternal princi-
ples of right and wrong, he is left to pitch and toss upon
the waves of shifting phenomena and personal experiences.
Instead of beholding at a glance, in a- single fact, as in a
mirror, the fair face of the truth he is in search of, he is
compelled to waste his strength and his spirits in merely
" polling the votes," which after all are as likely to decide
in favor of error as of truth.
The way is now prepared to state what the philosophy
of the mind is.
It is the knowledge of man as an intellectual and spiritual
being — of his nature, powers, capabilities, habitudes and
wants — of the laws and principles that regulate the vari-
=^r"
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIJSD. 117
ous mental and moral phenomena which he exhibits. It
implies definite and clear ideas of the soul, conscience,
reason, understanding, imagination, fancy, memory, and
whatever other faculties are of so universal admission as to
have found names for themselves in almost every language
under heaven. It implies an accurate acquaintance with
those faculties which man possesses in common with the
brutes, and of those higher powers which distinguish him
from them. It implies a familiar knowledge of the grounds
of human accountableness and moral obligation, and of the
correspondence which exists between man's moral nature,
and the laws to which he is subjected. It implies, of
course, a profound insight into all those powers and capac-
ities, which fit the human being for the social and civil
states, together with the means of their developement and
training. It traces, therefore, all the phenomena of thought
and feeling, up to their sources and fountain head ; it fol-
lows the leaves and branches back to their original germ.
It analyses human nature ; reduces it to its elements ; re-
solves facts into laws, and gives to fleeting shadows the
permanence of enduring substance. It strips man of what-
ever is accidental, or local, or temporary, or factitious, and
presents him as he is in himself, in his original, unsophisti-
cated, natural estate. It is emphati.ally the science ov
MAN.
It cannot be learned in the schools ; it cannot be re-
ceived by traduction ; it must be self-evolved. Flesh and
blood cannot reveal it ; it must be derived from an inward
inspiration. Self-knowledge is its very root and germ ;
self-consciousness the means and instrument of its devel-
opement and growth. The mind must bend, Narcissus
like, over itself, survey its own features and proportions,
contemplate its own powers, admire its own capabilities.
Whatever is extraneous to itself, can only furnish the occa-
sion of its own developement ; the impulse, the energy,
the germinating power must come from within. The
attempt to learn the science by text-books and categories,
and tables and charts, is as absurd as it would be to at-
tempt to acquire the art of oratory, by committing to
memory the columns of a dictionary. Patient thought,
profound reflection, voluntary and fixed self-consciousness,
are the sole conditions of progress in the knowledge of it.
118 MR GREGG'S LECTURE.
Whoever would be a proficient in it, must dwell at home —
must commune with his own spirit — must interrogate his
own nature — must distinguish whatever is phenomenal
and evanescent in his thoughts and feelings from what is
real and permanent ; — in a word, in the true spirit of an
old school Platonist, must know himself. Such, briefly,
is the philosophy of the mind ; and the method (and
method is half the science ; " prudens quaestio," says Bacon,
"est dimidium scientiae") of its acquisition.
I am now prepared to assign to this science the place
which it deserves to hold in the regards of an instructer ;
and after the remarks which have been made, I do not fear
the charge of unduly magnifying my office on the present
occasion, if I give the same prominence to an " acquaint-
ance with the philosophy of the mind," among the qualifi-
cations of an instructer, as the ancient orator gave to action
in his art; and pronounce it the first, the second, and third
essential requisite in a teacher.
I might confidently rest on the truth of this position
without farther proof, upon the general view which has
been given of the nature and method of the science. My
auditors, however, may need impression, if they do not
need conviction ; and I proceed therefore to show the
necessary connexion which exists between the Philosophy
OF THE Mind, and the Science of Education, under the
following heads of argument ;
The Philosophy of the Mind alone teaches the
TRUE Nature, Method, Means and Ends of Education.
1. The philosophy of the mind alone teaches the true
nature of education :
The process of education, is one o{ developejnent, not of
accretion ; it consists in the evolution and discipline of the
powers of the mind, and not in the accession of knowledge
from without. The observation of facts, the collection and
arrangement of the materials of science, the ample furnish-
ing of the mind with its appropriate aliment, are indeed
the necessary means of mental growth ; they are the fertile
soil, the cheerful light and heat, the genial rain and dew,
which cause the plant to germinate and evolve and shoot
forth its branches. But, they do not create, or constitute,
either in whole or in part, the mental powers ; they only
serve to develope and nourish them. The germs are
t»HlLOSOPHY Of THE MIND. 119
already in the mind ; the seminal principles are within, the
embryo faculties are there in all their completeness and
vigor. The sole province of instruction is to elicit and ex-
cite the latent and dormant powers. Indeed so far is it
from being true that the accumulation of facts and items of
information is education, that the very mass of the materials
collected, oftentimes deranges and destroys the very pow-
ers which were sought to be developed. The mind may
be so highly instructed as to fail utterly of being educated ;
the understanding may be so overburdened with facts, as
to eclipse the reason. Many a man has been rendered
insane by the mere overtasking of his powers of acquisition.
If the history of multitudes of maniacs could be written, it
would furnish an instructive and impressive commentary
on the difference in kind which exists between civilization
and cultivation, instruction and education. It would de-
monstrate beyond the possibility of refutation to the super-
ficial sciolists of this age, that the richest intellectual stores
may co-exist with the entire derangement of the mental
powers ; that the amplest materials of knowledge may be
found in minds, in which the very faculty of thought is
extinct.
Education is a developement, a growth from the centre,
a harmonious, simultaneous and proportionate evolution of
all the powers of the mind. Instruction, observation, ex-
perience, are only the occasions and means of this devel-
opement. The aliment which they furnish is digested,
taken up by its appropriate organs, assimilated, and made
homogeneous with the organs themselves. The whole
intellectual and moral man is nourished and strengthened
by the process. Every faculty is quickened and invigor-
ated by it. It is a natural, a healthful, a symmetrical
growth, like that of a well-formed animal or plant — and
not a monstrous, a diseased, a prodigious repletion of a
part of the organs, as in the fabled frogs of the Nile, that
Herodotus speaks of, in which "one halfmoreiA before the
other is made, and while it is yet h\xi plain mud."
An educated man is a complete master of all his powers ;
has all his faculties under command ; can apply and use
them at his will, fie possesses his knowledge, and is not
possessed by it ; converts the notices of the senses, and the
contributions of experience and instruction, which in an
120 MR GREGG'S LECTlJRfi.
uneducated mind, are mere dead lumber, into living germ^
of thought, and productive principles ot action. He is no
mere automatic statue of maxims, that can move only on
the rail-road of experience ; he is a living man of princi*
pies, who can find or make a way for himself in hitherto
untrodden and pathless directions. The lights by which
he is guided, are not like the stern lights of a ship, which
illuminate only the track which has been already passed
over; — they shine like fixed stars, which the shifting
clouds of experience may indeed often obscure, but which
they can never extinguish. He is adequate to untried and
difficult occasions ; he is not subject to surprisals ; he
knows himself; he looks upon the world with a philosophic
eye ; he discerns results in their embryo germs ; he is a
true seer ; in the facts of the past, he beholds the principles
of the present, and predicts from them the events of the
future. He is, in one word, a practical philosopher. He
theorizes upon facts, and reduces principles to practice.
He always reasons before he acts, and acts because he rea-
sons. His learning makes a part of himself, and is not
merely added or appended to him. It is blended and
inwrought with his mind, is assimilated to his character,
and makes part and parcel of his very being. It does not
make, it becomes the man. It pervades and modifies his
powers ; it gives tone to his thoughts ; it moulds and in-
forms his words and his actions. Like the life current
in the animal system, it does not appear externally, but it
flows through every minutest artery and vein in the body,
and imparts health and freshness and vigor to the whole.
Its power is felt, when it is not seen, and felt the more
effectually, because it is not seen. An eminent and truly
educated statesman of our own, has expressed his views on
the philosophy of education with so much truth and force
and grace, that 1 venture to quote the passage : —
" Literature sometimes, and pretensions to it much
oftener, disgusts by appearing to hang loosely on the char-
acter, like something foreign and extraneous, not a part,
but an ill-adjusted appendage ; or by seeming to overload
and weigh it down, by its unsightly bulk, like the produc-
tions of bad taste in architecture, where there is massy and
cumbrous ornament, without strength or solidity of column.
This has exposed learning to reproach. Men have seen
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIND. 121
that it might exist without mental superiority, without
vigor, without good taste, and without utility. But in
such cases, learning has only not inspired natural talent ;
or at most, it has but made original feebleness of intellect,
and natural bluntness of perception, something more con-
spicuous. The question then after all, if it be a question,
is, whether literature, ancient as well as modern, does not
assist a good understanding, improve natural good taste,
add polished armor to native strength, and render its pos-
sessor, not only more capable of deriving private happiness
from contemplation and reflection, but more accomplished
also for action, in the affairs of life, and especially for pub-
lic action." — Webster's Eulogy on Adams and Jefferson.
2. The philosophy of the mind alone teaches the true
method of education.
The method of education always corresponds with the
views that are taken of its nature ; and these views of its
nature have been shown to depend on antecedent views of
the nature of the mind. The true method of education
then, according to the views which have been expressed,
is, to regard the mind as a field to be cultivated, not a
storehouse to be filled with wares ; and to treat it accor-
dingly, to cultivate, rather than replenish it. The ground
must be broken up, the soil must be mellowed and pre-
pared, and the seed must be sown. Instruction must
excite and prepare the powers for action, and the elements
of knowledge must be implanted. But the strength of the
soil, the genial influences of rain and heat, with just cultiva-
tion enough to prune it of all noxious weeds, must do the
rest, and multiply the handfuls of seed, thirty, sixty, or an
hundred fold. Materials for thought must be furnished to
the mind ; but the faculty of thought must be developed,
and the habit of thought formed. The mind of the pupil
must be led to inquire for reasons and ultimate grounds or
principles. The natural curiosity, which seeks to penetrate
below the surfaces of things, must not be repressed, but
encouraged and stimulated. The spirit that is thirsting
for the waters of truth, must not be led to drink at the su-
perficial and inconstant rills of outward experience, but
to seek beneath the rubbish of phenomena for the living
fountains of eternal principles.
The pupil must be excited to make these efforts for him-
16
122 MR GREGG'S LECTURE.
self; he must be thrown upon his own resources, and
encouraged to use his own powers. The teacher is far
more likely to do too much than too little in the matter of
rendering direct assistance. The most he can safely or
successfully do. is like the eagle, to point out the road to
the sun and lead the way ; the young eaglets must gaze,
if they gaze at all, with their own eyes, — and soar, if they
soar at all, upon their own pinions. The conditions of
mental, are the same as those of physical developement.
Self-motion, voluntary exercise are the appointed means of
all healthful and vigorous growth of body or of mind. The
main business of the teacher is to furnish the stimulus to
effort, to supply the excitement to energetic action.
Alas ! how often and how lamentably does the teacher
mistake his province, and by his well-intentioned efforts to
do too much, fail of accomplishing anything ! How often
is the philosophic visiter of one of our modern schools, after
witnessing the almost endless attempts that are made to
simplify simplicity itself, the thousand and one " improve-
ments " in the method of education that have been devised,
the laborious pains-taking of the indefatigable teacher to
explain by diagrams and apparatus and lectures the sim-
plest axioms of science ; how often is he constrained to
exclaim in bitterness of spirit with the old Scythian, " Vae I
quantum nihili"! and mourn over the mechanized autom-
atons, or at best civilized animals, which this system is
substituting for cultivated and educated young men and
women.
" Alas !" — I quote the language of a profound and phi-
losophic Englishman — " alas ! how many examples are
now present to our memory, of young men the most anx-
iously and expensively be-schoolmastered, be-tutored, be-
lectured, anything but educated ; who have received arms
and ammunition instead of skill, strength and courage ;
varnished rather than polished ; perilously over-civilized,
and most pitiably uncultivated ! and all from inattention to
the method dictated by nature herself, to the simple truth,
that as the forms in all organized existence, so must all true
and living knowledge proceed from within ; that it may be
trained, supported, fed, excited, but can never be infused
or impressed."
Let me not be understood to pass an unqualified sen-
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIND. 123
lence of condemnation on " modern improvements in the
method of education." Many of them are undoubtedly
real improvements, and great credit is due to those original
and self-denying men, who iiave devoted their energies to
this sometimes neglected and despised, but always useful
and honorable calling. Yet 1 cannot but express my firm
and settled conviction, after some experience in the profes-
sion, and more observation, that a fundamental and fatal
mistake in regard to the true method of education exten-
sively obtains at the present time. Under the influence of a
superficial and sensuous philosophy, which has mistaken the
means and occasions of mental developement, for the men-
tal powers themselves, the attention of men has been almost
wholly withdrawn from the mind itself, and fixed upon
things outward. The qualifications of a teacher are not
estimated by his power of awakening thought, exciting in-
quiry, stimulating eflfort, and inspiring enthusiasm in his
pupils ; but by the number of facts he has treasured up in
his head, or embodied in his lectures, his tact at relieving
his pupils of all severe thought, his skill in performing va-
rious superficial experiments, and his eflfrontery in setting
forth his pretensions. The instructor is regarded, like the
ancient Sophists, as a sort oi wisdom-monger, "a vender, a
market-man in knowledge, one who hires himself out, or
puts himself up at auction, as a carpenter and upholsterer
to the heads and hearts of his pupils."
In accordance, too, with the spirit of the same shallow
philosophy, the progress of the pupil is measured, not by
the discipline he has acquired, the mental power he has
gained, his general adequacy to discharge the duties and
meet the emergencies of life, but by the books which he
has studied, the lectures he has attended, the facts he has
accumulated in his noddle or his note-book, and his adroit-
ness in retailing the stores he has amassed. Alas ! that the
holy temple of education should have been polluted with
so sensuous and profane traffic ! Would that a reformer of
sufficient authority and zeal might speedily arise to drive
all the buyers and sellers out of its sacred precincts.
3. The philosophy of the mind alone teaches the true
means of education.
It would be impossible within the limits of a single lec-
ture to enter into a minute specification of all the means of
124 MR GREGG'S LECTURE.
education which a sound philosophy would employ. lean
only suggest general principles, and let others infer the prac-
tice under them ; furnish the rule, and leave to others its
application.
I shall speak of studies, books, and instruction. The
studies must be adapted to the age and character of the
pupil. In infancy, and early childhood, provident nature
will ordinarily take care for herself, and formal studies
ought never to be imposed. The novelties of sense, the
unfolding wonders of the outward world, the conscious-
ness of budding and expanding powers, furnish ample
occupation for the youthful spirit. The child finds enough
to do, in the simple exerciseof his own awakening faculties,
and a pride and a joy in the effort, like that which he ex-
periences, when he first discerns the use of his limbs. The
poet Wordsworth, who, more than almost any other man,
possesses that distinctive peculiarity of genius, which
enables him to " carry on the feelings of childhood into the
powers of manhood," has so beautifully and philosophically
described this dawning of the infant mind, that I cannot
forbear to quote the passage : —
" O joy ! that in our embers
Is something tiiat doth live,
That nature yet remembers
What was so fugitive !
The thought of our past years in me doth breed
Perpetual benedictions ; not indeed
For that which is most worthy to be blest,
Delight and liberty, the simple creed
Of childhood, whether busy oral rest,
With new-fledged hope still fluttering in his breast ;
Not for these I raise
The song of thanks and praise,
But for those obstinate questionings
Of sense and outward things
Fallings from us, vanishings.
Blank misgivings of a creature
Moving about in worlds not realized,
High instincts, before which our mortal nature
Did tremble like a guilty thing surprised !
But for those first aflfections.
Those shadowy recollections.
Which, be they what they may,
Are yet the fountain-light of all our day
Are yet a master, light of all our seeing;
Uphold us, — cherish, — and have power to mak«
Our noisy years seem moments in the being
Of the eternal silence ; truths that waks
To perish never ;
w
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIND. 125
Which neither listlessness, nor mad endeavor,
Nor MAN nor bov,
Nor all that is at oninity with joy,
Can utterly abolish or destroy !
Hence, in a season of calm weather.
Though inland far we be,
Our souls have sight of that immortal sea
Which brought us hither ;
Can in a moment travel thither —
And see the children sport upon the shore,
And hear the mighty waters rolling evermore."
Alas ! how sad is the mistake of those, who turn aside
the infant mind from these Hving teachings — these vital
ministrations of nature, and constrain it to pore over the
dead images of books and charts ! Who, instead of send-
ing forth the child into nature, that she may
" pour on him her soft influences.
Her sunny hues, fair forms, and breathing sweets,
Her melodies of woods, and winds, and waters,"
till his powers are awakened and harmonized by the " be-
nignant touch of love and beauty," immure him within
the close walls of a school-room, repress his ebullient and
cheerful spirits, confine and fetter his free and roving fac-
ulties, and load his reluctant memory with the dry and
barren nomenclature of sciences, which he cannot in his
present stage of mental developement understand, and
which would be utterly useless to him if he could. The
whole system of infant schools is as much at war with
sound mental philosophy, as it confessedly is with the true
principles of physiology.
When the mind has passed through its first stage of de-
velopement, when the novelty which at first charmed and
excited has worn oflf, and familiarity with the objects of
sense has dulled the instinctive curiosity of childhood, then
and not till then, may the pupil be subjected to the disci-
pline of the schools. In the selection of studies for his
youthful charge, the teacher must be guided by the prin-
ciple, that " the nurture and evolution of humanity ^^ is the
end and aim of all his labors. The studies must be
adapted to the habits, tastes and peculiarities of the pupil.
Different individuals possess different powers, in different
degrees of developement and strength. Some have one
faculty in excess, another in defect. In his choice of
studies, then, the teacher must seek the harmonious and
126 MR GREGG'S LECTURE.
proportionate developement of all the powers. The fol-
lowing extract from Lord Bacon, sets this matter of studies
in so clear a light, that it cannot fail to be interesting in
the present connexion.
" flistories make men wise ; poets witty ; the mathe-
matics, subtile; natural philosophy, deep; moral, grave;
logic and rhetoric, able to contend. ' Abeunt stadia in
mores ' ; studies turn into habits ; nay, there is no stand
or impediment in the wit, but may be wrought out by fit
studies; like as diseases of the body may have appropriate
exercises ; bowling is good for the stone and reins ; shoot-
ing for the lungs and breast ; gentle walking for the stom-
ach ; riding for the head, and the like. So if a man's wit
be wandering let him study the mathematics ; for in de-
monstrations, if his wit be called away ever so little, he
must begin again : if his wit be not apt to distinguish or
find differences, let him study the schoolmen ; for they are
* Ci/mini sectores ' ; if he be not able to beat over matters,
and to call upon one thing to prove and illustrate another,
let him study the lawyer's cases ; so every defect of mind,
may have a special receipt."
Not less important than the studies selected, are the
booJcs, in, and by which they are to be pursued. Books
are as various in their characters as men, and the propor-
tion of sound and suitable text-books in any science is
quite as small as that of profound and educated men.
" Some books," says Bacon, " are to be tasted, others to be
swallowed, and some few to be chewed and digested " ; —
aye, \ cry few indeed of the books with which the modern
press teems. The most ominous feature of our age is the
light and flashy character of its books. Narratives, tales,
conversations, illustrations, companions, &,c., have almost
entirely supplanted the sober, thoughtful, and thought-stirr-
ing treatises, and systems of a former age. Sciences, poli-
tics, morals, religion, have all put oft' their wigs and robes
and bands, and come down from the rostrum, the pulpit and
the bench, and taken their station as plain fellows among
the crowd. The object of this humiliation, — the illumi-
nation of the people — is indeed a good one; but the
means employed has only degraded science, without ele-
vating men. In the expressive language of another —
" The attempt to popularize learning and philosophy, has
ended in the plebifcation of knowledge."
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIND. 127
The books selected by the teacher for the use of his
pupil must be profound, rather than popular ; must
abound with principles, rather than anecdotes and illustra-
tions. They must be full of the " seeds of things " ; rich in
living germs of thought ; they must suggest hints, rather
than supply ideas ; they must be, as Milton says, " Not
absolutely dead things, but contain a potency of life in
them to be as active as that soul was, whose progeny they
are ; nay, they must preserve as in a phial, the purest effi-
cacy and extraction of that living intellect that bred them."
Instruction, which is the third thing to be noticed under
means of education, must always be kept strictly in its
place as a means of education. It is a good servant but a
miserable master. It must never be allowed to usurp the
principal place. The province of instruction is to aid
mental developement ; it n)ust never assume an officious
prominence. The teacher can never study, or think, or
reason for the pupil ; the utmost he can do, is to excite,
guide, and feed his rational powers. He can never pour
the streams of knowledge out of his own mind into that of
his pupil as into a reservoir ; he can only open the living
fountains that are already within him.
4. The philosophy of the mind alone teaches the true
ends of education.
A grovelling utilitarian philosophy has degraded every
human interest and pursuit. Everything has come to have
its market-value, and is regarded as being worth just what
it will bring in the mart. Nothing is esteemed for its own
sake ; nothing has any intrinsic worth. There are no in-
variable standards of excellence; all is uncertainty and
fluctuation ; everything depends upon the shifting phenom-
ena of experience, and the generalizations of expedience.
In this general ebb and flow of things, the true ends of ed-
ucation have been entirely overlooked, and like everything
else, it has been guaged, marked, and stamped as a mere
commercial commodity. Its value has been determined,
not by its effect to make a man wiser, better, happier,
more useful ; but by the increased skill it brings into the
office of the lawyer, the counting-room of the merchant,
the shop of the artizan, or the field of the husbandman. A
sordid love of gain has displaced in the minds of men the
love of the good, the true, the beautiful ; and the devel-
128 MR GREGG'S LECTURE.
opemenl and perfection of the human within them, the
evolution of their noble powers, the cultivation of their
affections, the improvement of their sensibilities, the as-
similation of their whole soul and being to God himself, are
of less estimation in their eyes than a pitiable mercantile
tact, or handicraft skill. Education is esteemed not for
what it is, but for what it 'produces; not as an end, and
the noblest end in itself, but as the means of mere outward
advantage. The natural order of sentiments is entirely
reversed ; that which ought to be first, is last, and the last,
first.
Education is rrs own end ; like virtue, it is an ul-
timate GOOD. There is, and can be nothing to which it
stands in the relation of a means, which is great enough to
be its object. The developement and nurture of the intel-
ligential and moral powers, the expansion and cultivation of
the domestic and social affections, the birth and growth of
the whole spiritual man, are the highest ends of which it
is possible to conceive. The advantages of education are
only evidences of its own excellence ; streams that flow
from a fountain of good. But what are these advantages ?
In what do they consist ? In a more wide and far-reaching
prudence? A nicer and more calculating expedience?
A more expert and skilful use of the faculties for purposes
of interest or gain ?
Sound philosophy teaches a far different lesson ; that, as
education is so excellent as to be its own final cause and
ultimate aim, so its fruits are most excellent and noble.
It is the parent of every honorable sentiment and manly
virtue ; it calls into exercise and action every kind and
generous affection ; it purifies and quickens every tender
and delicate sensibility. It prepares man for his duties and
relations ; supplies impulses and motives to noble deeds ;
and inspires him with exalted and heroic resolution. What
is dark in the human mind, it enlightens ; what is feeble, it
strengthens ; what is wrong, it corrects ; what is narrow,
it enlarges ; what is low and mean, it ennobles and exalts.
It establishes a man in the truth ; fixes him in permanent
principles, and gives him a character of firmness and integ-
rity. In a word, it makes him an entire man. He fears
God ; he regards man ; he reverences law ; he respects
government ; he loves his country ; he is a friend of his
kind.
!fe
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIND. 129
Such are the fruits of real education — that education,
which alone, a sound mental philosophy shows to be worthy
of the name.
In closing, I will merely add — if there ever was a time
when sound views of the science of education needed to be
inculcated and enforced, that time is the present. The
minds of men have been so long directed to things outward ;
they have been so long taught to look without themselves for
their principles of conduct ; and have become so insensible
or regardless of all internal sentiments, that the distinction
between right and wrong is almost entirely lost sight of,
the boundaries of virtue and vice are confounded, and the
whole substance of morals destroyed. A calculating expe-
diency is substituted for the eternal principles of right and
wrong ; " the jurisdiction of conscience is abolished, her
decisions are classed with those of a superannuated judge,
and the determination of moral causes is adjourned from
the interior tribunal, to the noisy forum of speculative de-
bate." A spirit is abroad in the land, which would merge
and forget the joy at the deliverance of a man from the
dominion of a legion of devils, in grief and complaints at
the loss of a herd of swine.
The reflective mind cannot but tremble at the prospect.
For this empirical philosophy, this domination of physical
over moral ideas, of ideas of expedience over those of right,
must, ere long if not corrected, dethrone religion, displace
virtue from her foundations, and shake down the pillars of
society.
17
I
LECTURE VII.
THE ENDS
SCHOOL DISCIPLINE
BY HENRY S. McKEAN.
r
X
[Some passages in the following lecture, as well as the notes have been
added since its delivery.]
ENDS OF SCHOOL DISCIPLINE.
Mr President, and Gentlemen :
The great ends proposed in practical education are
preparation for active and social life, developeinent and cul-
tivation of the mental powers, and formation of character.
The intellectual and moral discipline of the school is a
means for the attainment of these ends. The numerous
partial effects aimed at in the course of education are to
combine for these main objects ; the various and minute
processes of the operation are to find, in the accomplishment
of these purposes, their great result. Harmonizing each with
the other, they blend into so intimate a mutual connexion
that neither can be singly or exclusively regarded ; the sep-
arate consideration of them will, however, most clearly
introduce the remarks suggested by the subject which your
committee have done me the honor to propose to me, —
" The ends a teacher should have in view in the intellectual
and moral discipline of children."
Early education is a preparation for life — for society.
The teacher's end, both in marking out a course and in
conducting its details, should be to fit his boys and girls to
assume the places which await them as men and women.
Apart from — and generally preparatory to — that training
which is to fit the individual for his particular profession or
business, is that which is necessary to him as a member of
society. A man may be a skilful carpenter or mason, and
know nothing of accounts ; a woman may be a skilful milliner
or confectioner, and be unable either to write or read ; but
134 MR McKEAN'S LECTURE.
neither of them can be considered as fitted for the duties of
society. Intellectual culture is necessary to a man, not
merely as he is a lawyer, a merchant, an engineer ; but as
he is a man. When I speak of education, therefore, as a
preparation for active life, I do not refer to the practice of a
single trade or profession, but to the duties and pursuits
common to us as social beings.
But am I not narrowing the meaning of the term educa-
tion, in calling it a preparation for active life ? " That
education," it may be said, " is but inferior, which confines
itself to a preparation for the common calls of the world.
Education, in its highest sense, is surely something nobler
and higher than this — something spiritual, not worldly.
We understand by it the developement and culture of the
child's godlike intellect, the cherishing to its full expansion
his divine reason, the forming of his immortal soul for the
high destiny for which it was created. And do you speak
of fitting him to plod the daily round of common life, as an
end ?" And can we, I would ask, conceive of an individual
too well educated.for a member of society ? Can we imag-
ine an intellect too highly cultivated, a soul too nobly formed,
to meet the demands of a cultivated, a refined, a virtuous
community ? Does not the path to our immortal lie through
the maze of our mortal destiny ? Is the thought of the state
for which we are designed, to destroy all regard to the state
in which we are placed ? No. Fitness for society — for
life — is no narrow standard of education. The more com-
plete the cultivation of the intellect, the taste, the character,
— the more perfect, in short, the education, the fitter is the
man to move with other men. The child is to be fitted for
life ; to fit himself for eternity, will be that fife's great lesson.
The teacher is to qualify his pupils for practical life. He
will, in reference to this end, make his discipline practical.
He will see that those faculties are called into action, culti-
vated and strengthened, which will be required by every
day's social or solitary duties; that the knowledge acquired
and stored in the memory, be such as will not lie uncalled
for.
The actual observation of life shows us, however, that
except so far as the general cultivation of the mental powers
is concerned, the studies, useful or ornamental, of childhood,
are often anything but a preparation for mature life. The
ENI>S OF SCHOOL DISCIPLINE. 135
boy spent years of toil in learning Latin and Greek ; they
are but too literally dead languages to the man. This gen-
tleman, who shudders at the toil of adding up his tailor's
bill, was deep, in his youth, in the mysteries of the mathe-
matics. That lady will not touch the keys of her piano
forte, even for the amusement of her children ; yet she might
tell of her continued five-hours-a-day practice, for year after
year of what was called her education. In all these cases,
certain powers have doubtless received a useful discipline ;
but the labors of youth have no practical bearing upon
mature life. The pursuits of school are cut off, and not
renewed.
The evil may arise, in part, from the mistaken notion that
an education is something precise and definite, which is to be
received or acquired at school, and that, this once acquired,
the educated individual need have no farther anxiety, may
rest on his oars, and drift easily with the current. " My
daughter," says the self-complacent mother, " my daughter
has completed her education ; she leaves her school at the
end of this quarter." Completed her education ! Yes.
Too often true, that there the young lady's education ends.
We will not captiously ask for the list of her acquisitions ;
she may have been well instructed ; her powers may have
been well developed ; but if she thinks her education com-
pleted, she has one long and hard lesson yet to learn.
Completed her education ! If she be well prepared to
begin it, her teacher may congratulate himself upon well-
directed and successful efforts.
For our education (taking the word in its widest — its
real meaning) is not completed with our school-days ; no —
not with our lives. Our youthful education is but a com-
mencement of, but a preparation for, the real education —
the education of ourselves, which must form one of the
constant pursuits, one of the active duties of our temporal
life.
The more the necessity, the duty, the delight of self-edu-
cation is realized, the more fully may the discipline of the
school be made a preparation for life. Its importance may
be recognized in early education. Instead of the child's
learning for the first time, when he leaves school, that he
is to educate himself, the teacher may present this truth
clearly and constantly to his view. His powers are given
136 MR McKEAN'S LECTURE.
him for improvement, as well as for use, in life. The
teacher commences the training of his pupils; they must
continue it. He teaches them the use of tools ; they are
to work for themselves. He lays the foundation ; they are
to rear the building. He conducts them to the hill side.*
He assists them over the labors and difficulties of the first
ascent. He prepares their eyes for the goodly prospect,
their ears for the melodious sounds. But he is not to finish
the ascent with them. Others are awaiting his helping
hand, his encouraging voice. He leaves them to explore
and enjoy by themselves the beauties and glories of the
path ; to gain the summit by their own strength.
The teacher's end in intellectual discipline is to promote, to
the greatest possible degree, the developement and growth
of the mental faculties, and to call them into vigorous and
healthy action. The great principle, upon which all better
education rests, is that our intellectual powers, perceptive,
reflective and active, may be cultivated, — may be im-
proved by cultivation. This principle should be ever
present to the teacher's mind. It suggests to him one of
the most important ends of his labors. That his pupils
should acquire useful knowledge, is well ; well, that their
memories should be furnished, and that abundantly, with
facts and rules and dates ; far better, far more essential is it,
that they should acquire the power of thinking, — of exer-
cising the appropriate faculty, promptly and with energy,
upon whatever subject may present itself to its action.
The memory itself he is not to view as a receptacle
which is to be filled, but as a power which is to be exer-
cised and improved.
The simple truth may be impressed in a thousand ways,
— that cultivation is essential to the cultivation and devel-
opement of our powers ; that a quiet and unobtrusive
attention to any object connected with the education and
progress of the being, will not fail, if patient and faithful,
of producing effects almost beyond hope. It may be made
a frequent subject of illustration, and I know not whether
* " I shall detain you now no longer in the demonstration of what we
should not do, but straight conduct you to a hill-side, where I will point
you out the right path of a virtuous and noble education ; laborious, indeed,
at the first ascent, but else so smooth, so green, so full of goodly prospect,
and melodious sounds on every side, that the harp of Orpheus was not
more charming." — Milton. Letter to Master Hartltb.
ENDS OF SCHOOL DISCIPLINE. 137
the moral effect of a conviction of its truth, and of a practi-
cal recognition of it as a guiding principle, be not, to the
child of whatever growth, of more worth than even the
mental advancement which will result from its direct effi-
cient application to any subject of mental effort. The
inculcation of it will afford scope for the most practical
moral instruction and discipline. Before it can be fully
felt and acknowledged as a directing rule, the moral virtues
must become the constant companions of the advancing
intellectual powers. Patience, that is not discouraged by
repeated failures ; Fortitude, that bears cheerily the hard
task-work ; Humility, that prides not itself upon the things
behind, seeing that the most is yet to be done ; Courage,
that quails not at the things before, seeing that something
has already been done ; Obedience, that feels how implicitly
ignorance should place itself under the guidance of know-
ledge, and mental infancy submit to mental age ; Hope,
that " through the gloom of the present sees the brightness
of the future" ; Faith, that trusts in the might of the image
of divinity within ; and Love, the union of them all, that
binds in sympathy the young fellow-travellers on the path
of self-improvement, — must all have been exercised and
refined and invigorated. The child will learn that progres-
siveness is the great law of his nature ; that feeble begin-
nings are followed by great results ; that the good seed,
which he sows humbly and in weakness, will spring up
gloriously and in power ; that the bread which he casts on
the waters with doubt and fear, he shall find it after many
days, with certainty and joy.
It is a question of no little moment, what motives the
teacher shall address, in exciting and encouraging his schol-
ars to application. That intellectual action is worth most,
which is the result of motives of the best and most elevated
nature. If the boy or girl at school may be induced to
learn from a principle of duty, we may hope that in ma-
turer life whatever requires mental effort may be done from
the same motive. If a class of motives be presented to the
child, which will cease to act from the moment he leaves
school, we must not expect that he will continue his exer-
tions. He may undoubtedly become what is called a very
good scholar, under the same motive by which Lear's
fool was to be taught to speak the truth, — " If you lie,
18
138 MR McKEAN'S LECTURE.
sirrah, we'll have you whipp'd." The lesson may undoubt-
edly be learned from day to day, from fear of the ferule.
The fault will not be, that there is no intellectual dis-
cipline ; the formido fastis is no feeble quickener of the
drowsy powers ; the lad will not probably remain ignorant
of that which he neglects at peril of his skin. But no one
good end of discipline is attained. There is no encour-
agement to the willing exertion of the powers — to volun-
tary study. The child is not taught, as he might be, that
self-improvement is his duty, and that mental effort is one
of the highest sources of pleasure. The proper motive is
not offered to him.
The same remark will apply to the incentives presented
by artificial distinctions in the school, rewards of merit,
medals and prizes. The natural and healthy emulation,
which, constituted as man is, must and will take place
wherever many are engaged in one pursuit ; — the honorable
desire to excel — degenerates, under our prevalent systems
of education, into a sickly craving for distinction, and a
mean jealousy of excellence in others. The stimulant op-
erates, it is true ; but it is not favorable in its moral influ-
ence, nor permanent in its effects. It ceases to act when
the child leaves school and enters upon life. If knowledge
is ever to be pursued for its own sake, if the mind is ever
to be cultivated from other motives than the love of dis-
tinction, then should these more true and pure motives be
addressed at the very commencement of education. There
is, undoubtedly, some convenience to the teacher in adopt-
ing the system either of punishments or rewards ; he is
spared the trouble of searching out and presenting the
proper motives, and of presenting learning in so attractive
a form, as that it may allure by its own charms. But if
the pupil can be made to feel the satisfaction attendant
upon mental action — upon the successful effort to acquire
knowledge ; if he can see that study is not necessarily irk-
some, and that indolence is not always bliss ; if the teacher
be willing to engage himself in making the pursuits of the
school as interesting and exciting as they may be made, he
will not need to resort either to the medal or to the rod.*
* The evils of artificial incentives to diligence and to emulation in the
school are strongly exposed, and the proper motives to be presented in edu-
cation beautifully set forth, in the following extracts from Professor Norton's
" Select Journal of Foreign Periodical Lit- rature " The first is a translation
ENDS OF SOHOOL DISCIPLINE. 139
I have said that the teacher's end, in intellectual disci-
pline, should be to encourage the vigorous action of the
mental faculties. The pupil is to be instructed, but he is
of a review, in the " Neiies Aligemeines Repertorium," of a Discourse,
pronounced at the examination of a Pestalozzian school, by Ph. Leyen-
deeker, the Principal. The second is from an article in the London
" Quarterly Journal of Education," on " Prizes as a means of Literary Edu-
cation."
The " Repertorium" says :
*• So long as the corporation-spirit keeps its place in public sominaries, so
long as the ancient routine, resting upon antiquated rules, prevails in them,
every useful change will be rejected. Let not this sentiment be confounded
with a desire for a revolutionary overthrow of existing institutions. But
who has ever doubted that a ration \\ mode of educating the rising generation
will exert an immeasurable influence upon the present and the future ; that
we may expect from it the cure of many of the moral diseases which now
exist.' Probably, however, the old state of things will continue, until the
force of circumstances and of example shall compel a change for the better.
" [Mr Leycndecker's] essay examines the question : ' What are we to think
of the usual incentives to diligence and to emulation, by means of certificates,
public prizes, scales of rank and merit, ^c.?' We present a short abstract of
the contents, that what is essential may be known and carefully considered.
" ' Reason and history prove, that the purest, noblest acts of love and
self-sacrifice have never been performed with a view to reward and honor.
They have never taken root in the soil of self-interest. Generally, they have
scorned every ordinary incentive. Therefore, let every one, in early youth
bo accustomed to love and practise the True and Good for its own sake
alone.'
" The author wishes all unnatural incentives to emulation ar d motives to
diligence banished from the school. ' That is not to be made an object of
desire in youth, which at a later day will not content the man, would he
live happy, and be truly useful to the state. The True and the Good require
not the aid of ambition and selfishness, in order to be loved and pursued
with all our powers. There lives within us an unquenchable impulse,
urging us to the eternally True, Good and Beautiful. These need only be
shown to the boy in their purity, to excite his faculties to the greatest
exertion. Were more confidence placed in the natural longing for the proper
form of the soul, were the mind nourished by truth and love; then there
were no need of these lures, to call the mental powers into activity.
Condemned to labor for mean rewarils, the young become debased and
degraded to boasts of burden. Designed by nature to develope them-
selves in free, noble life, they must drudge in the service of ambition.
" But no mother thinks of urging her healthy child to eat, by promises.
Hunger urges him till he is satisfied. Should it not be so with mental food ?
Let us but trust to the hunger and thirstof the soul. Let us risk the experi-
ment. The scholar will necessarily grasp with the same zeal at food for
the mind, as does the child at food for the body.'
" The author then proceeds to show that nothing but a perverted mode
of instruction could create the necessity for these incentives, and that the
application of them is closely connected with those false views according
to which the accumulation of knowledge is considered as the end of instruc-
tion. 'The young man,' says the author, 'is viewed not as an organic
being, which by the appropriate use of all the elementary means of its
intellectual growth, is to develope itself according to natural laws; but,
without regard to the necessary harmony between the human mind, as the
140 MR McKEAN'S LECTURE.
not to be the passive recipient of instruction. Whatever
be the subject of study, he should be required to bend his
mind to it, and to make it a subject of thought — of atten-
Eubject of developeoient, and instruction, as the means of developement,
the former is treated as a vessel, in which, by the aid of the memory, great
stores of idle knowledge are heaped up in confused disorder, to be hereafter
applied to public and domestic use. Thus regard is had merely to knowl-
edge, without a thought of education and the formation of character.
'" With many teachers, instruction, and the acquisition of knowledge,
instead of being regarded as means, have been transformed into an ultimate
object. The pupil himself, whose benefit is the final end and aim in the
communication of all knowledge, becomes to them only a means. Thus too
the pupil, in this perversion of things, substitutes for the proper objects of
his exertions those incentives to emulation which were held up to him merely
as a means of awakening his zeal, in order that he might take in the utmost
possible quantity of knowledge. The most natural consequence is, that his
diligence, once accustomed to these incentives, fails asleep when deprived
of them.'
" With these remarks on the unsuitableness of the incentives employed,
others are closely connected. ' One boy tasks his powers immoderately.
He denies himself rest, both by day and night, that be may at last, powerless
and enfeebled, gain the post of honor.'
" ' Another, of equal ambition, seeks artfully to reach the goal by a shorter
way. He thinks he has discovered that the teacher, in assigning the place
of honor, does not proceed with strict justice. It is fkvor, he thinks, which
turns the scale. This, then, he seeks to gain, and by means of it the first
rank. Too often he succeeds. The trickster can boast of the means which
he has used, if he have but gained thereby the desired result.'
" * The road once trodden, others enter upon it, more or less cunningly
following in his steps. Thus the teacher roust necessarily lose respect.
The whole school is in danger of becoming gradually demoralized.'
" 'A third has conceived a hatred against his school-fellow. He watches
hira with Argus eyes. Every fault is reported to the instructer with mali-
cious joy, that the object of his hatred may be humbled. The law is plain ;
the teacher must be just. *
" 'The stoical indifference of a fourth to all honors is proof against every
lure. To him, all these wondrous means are without effect. What cares
he, whether he sit on the first bench or the third, if that be all. And —
these immovables are not always the worst characters.'
" ' Another, by arrogance in his high place, awakens the envy of his school-
fellows. Many unite to effect his degradation. Let us but study smartly!
is the cry ; he must come down. The poor lad, surmising nothing of the
plot, enjoys his good fortune but a short time. Is he vanquished .' Then
the rivals rest upon their laurels, till a new contest calls their powers into
life.'
" ' Are we not in this way in danger of nourishing the first germs of self-
ishness and malice, of revenge and envy ? Are not all those passions at
work in the little world of the school, which distract the world at large
In this way, the scholar loses not only all love for goodness and rectitude,
but all respect for his instructer.' "
" The author now starts the question : By what means is the place of the
incentives acting on self-love, to be supplied.'' What is to be done to cause
the mind, without external impulse, to exert all its powers in the right
direction .'
" Pestalozzi, in the opinion of our author, has solved this question by his
ENDS OF SCHOOL DISCIPLINE. 141
tion. If you have awakened in him the feeling that he is
not merely to satisfy his teacher ; if you have impressed
him with a conviction of his responsibility to himself, you
method. By his theory of instruction and education, these means are made
superfluous. His method awakens the power of will in the pupil, takes
possession of it, and through this, of all bis intellectual powers.
" The Pestalozzian school, dispensing with these external incentives to
diligence and emulation, and holding them in contempt, does not, as has
most unjustly been charged upon it, reject emulation itself ; but it does no-
thing artificially ; it follows nature, and works in union with her."
" We have had the gratification of convincing ourselves by personal
inspection, that, in the establishment for the instruction and education of
boys, which has for several years made successful progress under the inspec-
tion and direction of [Mr Leyendecker], the principles and rules which he
has hero treated theoretically, are applied with encouraging success, and
approve themselves in practice." [Select Journal, for 1834. Vol. 1. Part
II. p. 189, seq.]
The " Journal of Education" says :
" ' On the subject of prizes, the author has made some remarks, which we
will quote. We give the whole argument as it is here presented, being of
opinion that some of the evil effects of the system are not overrated, though
the question is not viewed in all its bearings, nor exactly in the way most
likely to overcome the prejudices of those who have been accustomed to
consider this species of emulation as inseparable from good instruction.
Perhaps we might say that, according to our view, there is exaggeration in
the opinions expressed as to the bad efl^ect of the prize system on future life ;
but though there may be exaggeration, we do not affirm that there is no truth
in this part of the statement.
" ' There may be some customs continued in deference to prevailing pre-
judices; among these, probably, is the practice of giving prizes.
" ' The prize is the least effective mode of accomplishing the object
desired ; and it is founded in injustice, inasmuch as it heaps honors and
emoluments upon those to whom nature has already been most bountiful,
and whose enjoyments are multiplied, and increasing in a greater ratio than
others, by the more easy acquisition of knowledge. The favored individual
has also a much higher enjoyment in his ability to assist others ; for as it
is most true, that ' it is more blessed to give than to receive,' the blessing is
still greater as the gift is more valuable ; and when youth are trained, as
they can be, to derive pleasure from aiding their companions, the act of
teaching strengthens the memory, and improves both the understanding and
the feelings. These are the rich and enduring rewards which accompany
the right exercise of talents ; and, as if resolved to defeat the designs of
nature, we deprive ingenuous youth of the generous and happier motive, —
we rob him of the 'prize of his high calling,' and present him with one
sordid and selfish. What, then, is the consequence .■' He no longer regards
the boys of inferior capacity ; and those who approach near him in talent,
he views with Jealousy. He gains the prize, and enters society, where he
looks eagerly for other prizes : he is vexed and harassed by disappointment,
or he may reach the object of his ambition ; his former associates are forgot-
ten, perhaps even those who have contributed to his elevation. And what
is the effect upon the boy of inferior organization .' He can never hope to
gain the prize ; and the intelligent boy, who would have taken him by tJje
hand, and to whom he would have looked up with affection and gratitude,
and anxiously sought some means of returning his kindness, knows him,
scarcely by name : the poor boy is disregarded in society, suffers the conse-
142 MR McKEAN'S LECTURE.
have done more for him than if you had carried him tri-
umphantly through a whole course of mechanical study.
If you are leading him to the formation of habits of mental
quences of neglect, perhaps want, crime and misery. This principle obtaini
in most of our schools, laying a broad foundation for all the antipathies and
evils of society.
" ' But the bad effects of the prize end not with the superior and inferior
boys ; they may be traced through all the intermediate gradations of talent ;
praise and invidious comparison are only other forms of the same principle,
— alike fruitful in envy, pride, scorn, and bitter neglect. In the curiosity
of children there is a sufficient and a natural stimulant of the appetite for
knowledge, and we live in a world abounding in the means of useful and
pleasurable gratification. All that is required of preceptors is to aid the
developement of the faculties with affection and judgment.
" ' Were the question of the utility of prizes proposed for consideration and
discussion among the boys themselves, such is their sense of justice, that I have
not the least doubt that in a short time they would decree their abolition.'*
" We offer the following considerations on" the subject of excitement by
prizes, with the view of bringing the matter forward for discussion. The
writer of these remarks has thought on the subject, and has formed an opin-
ion, in which opinion he may be miataken. Those who are the advocates
of the prize system, we believe, have not yet thought muck on the subject;
for when we are following a certain rule or practice, whatever it may be,
which has been transmitted to us from a previous generation, we are not
likely to be the first to enter on ihe consideration of the advantages or dis-
advantages of the practice we adhere to, or to investigate the principle on
which it is based. The discussion generally commences with those who,
being out of the immediate influence of the particular rule or practice,
contemplate its effects at a distance : from their outward position they
generally are the first to discover a defect, if there is one ; they may some-
times, also, overlook a merit, which can only be discovered by a nearer
approach. With a full conviction of the difficulty of the subject, and with
a conviction equailly strong as to the importance of the question, we make
the following remarks, solely with the view oCinviting the advocates of the
prize system, to a more complete discussion of the question than we feel
competent to undertake.
" It appears to us, that all excitements by prizes have the same essential
character, and differ only in degree, some being less immoral and less hurt-
ful than others. The prize-fighter and the prize-man stand on the same
grounJ ; they aie both the offspring of ill-directed love of distinction ; both
are the objects of vulgar applause and contemptible jealousy ; and boih are
excited, not by the desire, in the one case, to possess a body sound, healthy,
and capable of enduring all necessary toil, nor, in the other, by a real love
of knowledge (that is, a love of truth), but by a desire to obtain that which
only one can have, and all covet to possess.
" In addition to the bad effects of the prize system on the character of the
combatants, we have observed another consequence, which is mf st unfavor-
able to the improvement of education. Parents have often been indifferently
educated themselves, and are not well qualified to judge of their children's
progress at school The system of distinctions and prizes is calculated to
* In the spring of 1834, memorials, from eacli of the four classes, were presented to the
Government of Harvard College, liearing the unanimous signatures of the students. They
prayed for the abolition of artiticinl distinctions of rank, and of the assignment of public
exbihition and commencement performances, as rewards of merit.
ENDS OF SCHOOL DISCIPLINE. 143
application, if you are teaching him how to exercise his
powers, you are accomplishing most important and desirable
ends. Too much of the employment of the school is made
to consist in mere rote-learning. The memory is exer-
cised, in many cases, when it does not need particular
exercise, and when other powers are neglected for it.
The scholar is too often allowed to think that if he can
"say his lesson," nothing more is required of him. If his
teacher be content with a mechanical repetition of words,
what inducement to the pupil to endeavor to understand
his lesson, to make it a subject of thought, to apply to it
any other faculty than verbal memory ? He should learn —
learn practically — the essential distinction between remem-
bering words, and knowing things. If the lesson be the
repetition of a list of names, let him repeat it verbatim ;
the purpose of the exercise is answered ; but the purpose
of a lesson in History, or in Natural Philosophy, is not an-
swered by a verbal repetition, however exact. But our
school text-books are often furnished with questions for
examination ; again, to these questions there is sometimes
a " key " provided for the instructer's use. The learner
can hardly be expected to make his lesson a subject of an-
alysis— of close thought, when he knows that his master
will be contented with a bald answer to the question. The
master, happy in the possession of his Tiey, has both ques-
tion and answer ready at hand ; no need of his painfully
eliciting the author's meaning. Beautiful economy of
mental labor! The lesson was mechanically learnt — let
it be mechanically recited.
obscure tlieir judgment, and to make them adopt a false criterion. We are
led to these remarks, by having observed how often parents judge of their
son's progress at school, by his success in obtaining a prize or a high place,
and by nothing else. The real amount and nature of Jiiss acquirements are
not inquired after; much less the kind of character in which he is growing
up. — Has he got a prize ? Is he first or second in his class? On the
answer to these questions depends their opinion of their child's proficiency.
It happens under this system, that those parents, whose sons are successful,
often form most ridiculous and extravagant expectations, of what they are
to do in the world; and those, whose children fail in obtaining the envied
distinctions, are apt to regard them, as we have more than once seen, not with
the usual feelings of parental tenderness, but as unfortunate objects, on whom
much expense has been thrown away. The only enduring incentive to
vigorous exertion, and the investigation of truth, is the love of knowledge,
and the feeling of pleasure arising from its pursuit; when this is wanting,
the stimulus of personal distinction is found to be comparatively weak and
ineffectual." [Select Journal, for 1834. Vol. H. Part II. page 112, seq.]
144 MR McKEAN'S LECTURE.
The exercises of the school should not be mechanical ;
there need not be one, which may not call out the atten-
tion, which may not task, and at the same time excite the
powers of the scholar. Take any good English Reader —
any of the selections which are used in our common schools ;
let it be read in the proper manner ; let the pupils feel that
something more is asked of them than simply to enunciate
distinctly their syllables, and pause with precision at their
stops. Yes — let them know that after they have mas-
tered the sense of the passage before them, they are to
answer the questions which their instructer will put them
upon it, — that they are to have the privilege of tasking his
ingenuity to answer theirs ; and the exercise which is often
merely a mechanical one, is made the means of calling into
action some of the most useful powers of their minds, as
well as of adding to the amount of their useful knowledge.
The teacher should not allow them to laugh at the whim-
sies of Will Honeycomb, without knowing who or what
the " Spectator" was ; he should not, for want of a well
timed question, let them suppose " Ibid " to be a much-
quoted English author. Let them learn by rote, and their
knowledge is that of parrots ; it makes some show, it
attracts much astonishment and applause, but it is all upon
the tongue.
Cannot the faithful instructer teach his scholars, and will
it not be a most important lesson to them, and is it not a
most worthy end for him, as a teacher, to have in view in
the discipline of their minds, that to whatever subject the
mind is for the time applied, to that the whole mind is to
be given, — upon that, every power which can be exerted is
to be exerted vigorously ? Can he not accustom them —
for, in this, habit is everything — can he not accustom them
to come to the duties of the school in a spirit of alacrity
and attention ? to find in everything a subject of study,
and, in all study, the means of enjoyment ? The highest
enjoyment, to the young, consists in the activity of their
powers. May not mental activity be made as delightful in
the school-room, as bodily activity is upon the playground?
If the teacher would rouse activity, he must awaken in-
terest. Study is not necessarily irksome. The schoolboy
is creeping umciUingly to school, only because he antici-
pates nothing there to be interested in, to enter into with
all his might, — to enjoy with all his heart.
ENDS OF SCHOOL DISCIPLINE 145
In exciting interest in study, much depends upon the
method of communicating instruction. Too much expla-
nation, indeed, — too much assistance, is injurious to the
scholar; he should not lean too much upon his teacher;
it is better that he should surmount some of the diffi-
culties which his lesson presents, than that they should
all be removed out of his path. But he should not be al-
lowed to look forward to the recitation as merely the per-
formance of an appointed task. The time which his teacher
spends with him should be spent not only in ascertaining
what he already knows, but in conveying to him that infor
mation and those explanations which he needs. The hour
of recitation, becoming thus an hour of instruction, of useful
acquisition, as well as of examination, is looked forward to
with more interest. The pupil is to meet an instructer —
not a taskmaster.
There cannot be a surer way of rendering scholars indif-
ferent to what they are doing, than for the teacher to show
indifference himself. If he aim at keeping their attention
on the alert, his own must not be sleeping. Your children
are acute observers. If the master's ear be listless, his eye
wandering, they can detect it with as much certainty as can
he the same symptoms of inattention in them.
The scholar must see that his master appreciates his
])erformance of the appointed exercise. To do this, in all
cases, requires in the teacher the nicest attention, and the
habit of observing the processes by which the mind arrives
at its results. The blunder of the intelligent student is a
very different thing from the blunder of the idle dunce.
The passage may have been incorrectly translated ; and yet
as acute ingenuity and as faithful study may have been
evinced, as if no mistake had been committed. The answer
to the sum may not agree with the master's infallible key ; yet
if he will inspect the boy's slate, he shall find that sounder
mental arithmetic led to the error, than would have been
used in cyphering out the question by the rule. Shall the
language held to the pupil in such cases be — "You have
not got your lesson" ? Suppose he should be told — " Your
mistake was a natural one ; you could not have been ex-
pected to avoid it ; by attention to such and such principles
you will avoid similar mistakes in future." — The boy's
conviction that the teacher is just in his estimation of his
19
l46 MR McKEAN'S LECTURE.
diligence, will certainly not diminish either his fidelity or
his interest.
h just. Here lies the secret of government, the mystery
of exact discipline and of willing deference. If there be a
principle instinctive in the mind of the child, if there be
one that manifests itself early, and speaks in his words and
deeds, through both his serious concerns and his plays, it
is the principle of justice. What is the fault which boys
are the least willing to overlook in their master ? Partiality.
Let him be just, and he need not fear to be strict.
The interest in study would be increased, were there
more encouragement given in the school to the free action
of the faculties of children. But they are made to go in a
beaten path. They must parse the word as their grandsires
parsed it of old. They must demonstrate the theorem in
the way it is demonstrated " in the book." They must say
their grammar " as nearly in the words of the author as
possible." They must bound their States by beginning
always at the north, and going round to the right hand. —
Why not encourage them to think for themselves ?* Why
not indulge them in seeking out what shall seem to them a
better way of coming to the result — of expressing the sense ?
Why not urge them to find what errors they can in the
book they are studying; to suggest what improvements
they choose, in the mode of reciting ? Why not let them
sometimes leave the main road for the short cut through
the wood ? Allowing that they can become well-informed
by keeping to the letter; why should they not become
shrewd, and inquisitive, and bold, by searching for the spirit ?
Would you feed them, by giving them nuts, and forbidding
them to get at the kernels ? Would you teach them cour-
age, by confining them ever to the fortress, and forbidding
them to skirmish in the field ?
The cramping system is the result, in different instances,
of two different causes. The teacher sometimes errs from
an overscrupulous conscientiousness ; he thinks that his
duty is not done, unless the task has been performed with
the most literal exactness. Let such bethink him whether
he may not be even more faithful to the child by being a
•The general principles of education are well enforced and illustrated in
" The Teacher, by Jacob Abbott." Were that book used as widely even
as it is read, there would be less occasion for the strictures in the text.
ENDS OF SCHOOL DISCIPLINE. 147
little faithless to the book. The teacher is sometimes igno-
rant ; and he fears that his incapacity will be made apparent,
if he diverge from the one path which he has conned. He
veils his infirmity under a cloak of assumed wisdom. — " You
learn your lesson, Sir ; do you suppose you know better than
the dictionary ?" — Let such seriously consider, whether he
had not himself better " submit again his hand to the ferule."
The teacher can in no way more fully secure the interest
of his pupils in the studies which they are pursuing, than
by manifesting sympathy with them. He may even study
with his scholars ; and they may know that he is doing so.
He may let them see that he is accompanying them, pace
by pace ; that he is meeting, as they are, with difficulties,
and surmounting them by study. Let him not be ashamed
to show, that he is himself a learner. His boys and girls
will respect him the more, for not being afraid of being
thought ignorant. And in no branch of study will better
instruction be given, than in that which he is thus learning
in order to teach. In proportion as his own mind is more
warmly interested, in proportion as a community of pursuit
with them creates a common sympathy, will their interest
warm, and their attention be fixed.
Dugald Stewart, when but a youth, instructed one of his
father's mathematical classes, during his illness. He was
very successful. This success he most modestly, and at the
same time most philosophically accounted for, by observing
that he was himself, during the whole time, only three days
in advance of his class. The more a teacher can lessen the
awful distance between himself and his pupils, the more
fully can he eflfect the great ends of his calling. The
youthful worshippers at learning's altar must not have " a
high priest who cannot be touched with a feeling of their
infirmities." The teacher is not any the less the strict and
faithful master, because he is also the kind and sympathizing
monitor. Love, so far from relaxing the law, is its fulfilling.
Let the teacher forget, in company with his scholars,
that age has roughened his cheek, or whitened his head.
Let him renew his youth, in becoming a child with children.
— In Greenough's breathing group, the conducting angel
seems but little older than the young immortal whom he is
guiding. With the scenes to which he is leading him, he has
himself had no long acquaintance. Wonder has but lately
148 " -'" MR McKEAN'S LECTURE.
given place, in his h6art, to calm interest and confident
delight. Heaven has deputed that companion to the new
arriver, who can give him the best guidance, because he
can accord to him the fullest sympathy.*
As in intellectual discipline the teacher's great end is the
cultivation and improvement of mind, so in moral discipline
he has in view the formation and improvement of character.
The child has moral as well as intellectual powers to be
called into action and invigorated. Truth, virtue, duty,
are to be words of meaning to his ear, as well as knowledge,
science, literature.
The instructer may here command a most important
influence. His efforts are to combine with those of the
parent and the religious teacher, to inculcate the practice,
and cherish the love, of all that is pure and holy in religion,
of all that is binding in duty. He must not forget that he
is the guardian of immortal beings, and that the influence,
direct or indirect, which he exerts upon their characters, is
not to be bounded by their present lives.
The common discipline of the school, according to the
principles upon which it rests, and the motives which it
addresses, may be, or may fail of being, moral discipline.
It will make much difference, whether the pupil be obedient
and well behaved compulsorily, from fear of punishment, or
voluntarily, from the desire to do that which is right and
becoming ; whether he study from the wish to improve, or
for the gratification of his vanity.
The scholar is to receive moral instruction. Of this, in
a complete course, a part should undoubtedly be direct.
• " Oh, how fair,
How beautiful the thoughts that meet me there, — '
Visions of Love, and Purity, and Truth.
Though form distinct had each, they seemed, as 't were,
Embodied all of one celestial air —
To beam together in coequal youth.
" And thus I learned — as in the mind they moved —
These stranger thoughts the one the other loved.
That Purity loved Truth, because 't was true.
And Truth, because 't was pure, the first did woo ;
While Love, as pure and true, did love the twain.
Then Love was loved of them, for that sweet chain
That bound them all. Thus sure, as passionless,
Their love did grow."
Wa. Allston. Verses on Greenough's Group of the Angd and Child.
ENDS OF SCHOOL DISCIPLINE. 149
The evidences of natural and revealed religion, the science,
also, which teaches human duty, and the reasons of it, are
most important and most attractive studies. But it is not
always remembered how large a proportion of indirect moral
and religious instruction may be blended with other exer-
cises. All the philosophy of natural history may be made, —
nay, it is, — natural theology. The child or the adult, who
is led to observe the wonderful adaptation of means to ends
in any part of the economy of nature, is learning a lesson
concerning the wisdom and goodness of nature's author.
History, when it is anything more than chronology, becomes
an associate with, a part of, moral philosophy. A view
of the actions of the men of past times, and an insight into
their motives, may suggest discussions of the most practical
kind concerning the true standard of man's duty. Hardly
a literary performance of the school which may not afford
nourishment for the soul, as well as for the mind. The
effect may not be immediate — may not be calculated upon.
The poem was analyzed as an exercise for the taste, and
learned as an exercise for the memory ; it may some time
be repeated as an exercise of devotion.
But it is not only by moral instruction that the teacher
will aim to form good characters, to instil right principles ;
he may acquire a moral influence, the stronger that it is
noiseless and unobtrusive. I have spoken before of the
manner in which intellectual cultivation, conducted upon
right principles, tends to refine and strengthen the moral
powers. The teacher's example is also a most effective
means of indirect moral control. The influence which he
may derive from manifesting his own recognition of the
principles upon which he is teaching his scholars to act, is
incalculable. Can he give a better lesson against prejudice,
than by showing that he always aims to form impartial
judgments ? — against pride, than by his own humility ? —
against passion, than by his own self-command ?
In his direct moral instruction, — in reproving a fault, —
in enforcing a virtue, the instructer should be distinct and
simple, and — he should be brief. A word to the point is
worth an hour's prosing. If he punish, let him not reason
with the child at the same time, but reserve his argument
and his advice to a time when they may be calmly spoken
and patiently heard. If there be a rule of his school, with
160 MR McKEANS LECTURE.
a penalty attached to its violation, let him never allow a
first transgression to pass unpunished. If he do, the sin of
the second lies at his door. Let him be prompt, resolute,
cheerful in his discipline. Peevish complainings about an
infringement of the school-laws, will give rise to ridicule
among the scholars, when a decided punishment would
awaken respect, and secure obedience. The stream of
discipline should flow gently but constantly; if indolence
or indecision throw barriers in its way, it becomes irregular
and capricious ; sleeps for a while in a deceitful calm, and
when it must flow on, is as likely to burst upon the head of
the innocent as of the guilty.
The teacher is to avail himself of every opportunity of
indirect religious instruction. To what extent direct reli-
gious instruction should be given in the school, is a question
which every competent instructer will prefer to decide for
himself. But in all the religious instruction, direct and
indirect, which comes from the teacher, there must be
nothing narrow, nothing sectarian. To him, if to any one,
it is appropriate to show how wide the common ground,
upon which all the pure worshippers of a common Father,
the firm believers in an immortal life, may meet, and sympa-
thize, and hold communion. Enough, happily, of places,
in which children may be taught the peculiar characteristics
of the form of faith, in which their parents are educating
them ; too many, unhappily, are the opportunities of im-
pressing them with exclusive and uncharitable views. May
not the teacher, at least, so far lay aside his own peculiar-
ities of religious opinion, as to meet his scholars upon the
common ground ? I would not have him speak dispar-
agingly, or slightingly, of difTerences in religious belief; but
he cannot teach a higher or a truer lesson, than that they
are comparatively unimportant, when contrasted with the
great truths which the religious of all sects unite in recog-
nizing. To the child, certainly, Christ need not be
"divided." Let the grown people be Trinitarians and
Unitarians, Catholics and Protestants : be content to let the
children be Christians. Must they be forbidden, and suf-
fered not to come unto the Son of the Eternal Father,
unless led by the hand of Calvin, or Wesley, or Sweden-
borg or Socinus? They will, when they grow np, see
ENDS OF SCHOOL DISCIPLINE. 161
enough of the narrowing and embittering effect of party
spirit upon political and social life ; let them be taught to
keep the religious life undisturbed by it.
1 have spoken of the principles upon which good educa-
tion should be conducted. I have glanced at a few of the
most prominent defects in the conduct and discipline of
our schools. I am aware how difficult and dangerous is
the ground. I know how apt we are to attach undue im-
portance to matters upon which our own convictions are
strong. I know that he who intends merely to recommend
improvements is liable to become the partisan of innovation.
I protend not to have found the truth. I would but urge
others to inquiry.
Education is an old subject; people are tired of it. It
is a common one ; everybody feels competent to make up
their own judgment from their own experience. The
young man who would speak upon the subject, may be
allowed the merit of stringing together showy paradoxes ;
but will hardly gain credit for patient thought or impartial
examination. The unmarried man who would speak upon
the subject, must expect to be saluted with some wise saw
about " bachelors' children." But if he say what is the
result of deliberate consideration, if he speak, not for effect,
but from conviction, I know not why he should not obtain
a hearing. " Age." he will be told, " should speak " ; but
if age be silent, may not youth open its mouth to ask for
counsel ?
I have spoken singly of certain important ends to be
held in view in the discipline of the young. In practice,
they are inseparable. Intellectual and moral culture re-
ciprocally aid each other, and unite in fitting the individ-
ual to aid in the intercourse, and share the duties of society.
And education can be considered as complete only when
the moral and intellectual and social nature have gained the
highest possible limits of their advancement.
To this high mark is the teacher's aim to be directed.
This noble end is he to have in view. He will hardly
anticipate the full achievement of it, but his action need
not, therefore, be any the less steady and determined.
And Jt may be well for him to remember, that as the lapse
of the year is marked by the successive vibrations of the
15j2l MR McKEAN'S LECTURE.
pendulum, that as the marble block does not become a
living form but by repeated touches of the chisel, so it is by
patient labor, by quiet and unwearied efforts, by the faith-
ful hearing of the single lesson, the mild correction of the
single fault, the " word fitly spoken," the rule impartially
enforced, by the common and humble toil of every day,
that the great objects to which he looks are, if at all, to be
accomplished.
LECTURE VIII.
IMPORTANCE AND MEANS OF CULTIVATING
SOCIAL AFFECTIONS AMONG PUPILS.
BY J. BLANCHARD.
20
SOCIAL AFFECTIONS AMONG PUPILS.
Mr Pbesident, and Gentlemen of the Institute ;
Desire of society is as truly a part of our natures, as
the dread of anguish or the love of hfe. This simple
original desire, finds its gratification in the exercise of those
natural affections, which interest us in the welfare of our
kindred, our friends, our acquaintance, and our race ; and,
together with these affections, it forms that complex class
of emotions, which we call the social feelings ;* and these,
again, being constantly excited by the circumstances and
relations of life, grow into a permanent habit, and become
the all-pervading, master-feeling of the soul. All other
passions and powers of the mind are subsidiary to this, and
the entire universe is built in that manner which is best
adapted to cherish these feelings, and bring them to per-
fection. We may, then, infer the high worth of the social
affections,
L 1. From the estimation in which God holds them.
This we may learn by viewing His works, in the same way
that we get at a man's opinion on a given subject, by ex-
amining his conduct. For it cannot for a moment be sup-
posed, that the Creator would have made the whole range
of objects in nature co-operate together in the production
of a set of feelings which were not designed to answer
important purposes in the system of things. Now even the
lifeless forms of inorganic matter, are so constructed as to
excite the social affections in the minds that study them ;
* For classification, see Dug^ald Stewait's Works, vol. iii., p. 40B.
156- MR BLANCHARD'S LECTURE.
and hence it is, that the students of Sweden, where the
natural sciences are pursued with uncommon ardor, are far
more amiable and social than their neighbors, the untiring
Germans.
The mineralogist, no sooner falls on a crystal or garnet,
but he searches the immediate vicinity, with confident ex-
pectation of finding the bed of earth or of rock^ where sleeps
the whole sparkling family to which the stray individual
belongs. It is thus throughout the material world. The
pearl and the diamond, no less than the rubble and the
sandstone, repose in clusters or in concrete masses, and
the whole surface of the earth is strown with endlessly
varied forms of matter, which are grouped together with
their kindred forms for no imaginable purpose, except to im-
press a social structure on the young minds which behold
them ; and thus to form a fit frame-work for a social globe.
2. But the social features are more clearly discernible
in whatever of matter possesses motion or life. If our eye
could take in at a single glance, all the waters which mur-
mur on the globe, the whole busy multitude of streams
would seem well to represent one vast family, whose mem-
bers, though constantly dispersed by opposing elements,
are as constantly stealing by their several courses, to the
same home. Not a flower on the freckled bosom of earth,
seems willing to grow unseconded by its mate. And even
the shrubs and trees, when left single, instead of climbing
toward heaven as is their nature to do, seem stretching out
their arms in search of their lost companions.
3. Besides the grouping together of similar forms, there
are myriads of unseen influences abroad in the world, both
known and unknown, whose magnetic virtues compel all
things to depend on all. Thus every particle of matter has
its soul, though not in the sense which the heathen philos-
ophers taught ;* and by its attractive properties, it stands
connected in ten thousand ways with the entire material
machine, so that a single irregular pulsation in the remotest
part, must make the whole frame tremble ! These views
have been versified by one whose feelings were in unison
with the truths above stated.
• Good's Book of Nature, Sect. 4, on Matter and the Material World.
SOCIAL AFFECTIONS AMONG PUPILS 157
" What thing created brooks to exist alone ?
Even the dull rock claims kindred of its own ;
The tree left single spreads her widowed arms
To share with pollard mates her verdant charms; —
Rills to each other's bosom steal with care,
Blend into one, and flow more quiet there; —
While stars in clusters gather as they move.
And light the lamps of friendship and of love.'**
4. Rising from the low ground of dull material forms,
to the sprightlier region of animal natures, the eye is almost
pained by the instant rush of interminable and countless
clusters of social beings. The silent shell fish, that grow
on rocks, though senseless, are yet social, and seem to find
a mute enjoyment in each other's presence. The micro-
scope reveals the fact that every flower is a separate realm,
peopled by a society of beings which observe their own
laws, and pursue their little pleasures, animated by a mur-
muring music, which, by placing the flower close to the
ear, even our coarser organs enable us to perceive. No
animal is able to subsist alone. Those wild animals which
are caught and caged, are able to drag on a wretched exist-
ence, only because the human beings who tend them,
afford a meagre substitute for the society of their mates.
The silent schools which wander " through the paths of the
seas," are continually swarming in their social gambols : —
While the softest and richest — nay, almost all the music
of this lower world, is made up of the language of its ani-
mals, telling each other of their happiness, or making known
their wants.
5. Thus while we trace this series of animated beings
from one mode of life to another, down to the shadowy
margin of emptiness itself; or follow the same series, as it
holds upward through higher and still higher gradations, till
the whole glowing chain of immortal intelligences is lost in
that concentrated- blaze of brightness which veils forever,
and forbids all approach to the Eternal Throne ! —
Throughout this mighty range we cannot find one inde-
pendent, isolated being. The universe itself is nothing but
one illimitable group of societies, bound together by ties as
real and indissoluble as those by which they are fastened
to existence itself! So true is it, that the Most High hath
imprinted a social aspect upon the fore-front of all his
* Pleasures of the Social Affections.
158 MR BLANCH A RD'S LECTURE.
works, to the end that whoever becomes acquainted with
the smallest part of them, may feel within him the stirrings
of that social nature which was originally implanted in ev-
ery breast. And it is thus most plain, that those affections
which the Deity has seen fit to cultivate at an expense of
arrangement whereto all his works are made to contribute,
must be, in his estimation, who rates all things at their true
value, of higher importance than any or all the remaining
powers of the soul.
II. 1. But again: The reasonableness and necessity
of cultivating the social affections, may be argued from the
fact, that they make the most important part of the faculties
of the soul. Strike out the social feelings, and a mere
intellectual skeleton is all which you leave. Memory, be-
comes a useless register of uninteresting particulars ; —
Reason draws inferences from uncared for facts ; — and the
Understanding, like an antiquarian judge, is busied in the
decision of cases in which no one feels interested : — For
our social nature is the silver cord which binds together all
our faculties into one harmonious whole.
2. Moreover we ought to cultivate the social affections,
because they are concerned in the production of all the
misery and all the enjoyment incident to human life. If
properly regulated and judiciously cultivated, they are the
" Suns of the soul ! Sweet sol'ice of all wo!
Balm shaded founts whence rills perpetual flow :
Whose healing dews with life's harsh waters blend,
Till he who lives a stranger looks a friend."*
But if they are neglected or perverted, the spirit is imme-
diately plunged in feverish inquietude or gloomy discontent.
The proverb " Corruptio optimi, Pessima,'f applies with
tenfold propriety to the social affections, for the mischief
they occasion when perverted or suppressed, is in full pro-
portion to the pleasure of which they are capable when
vigorous and sound. Robert Hall has said : " The sympa-
thies, even of virtuous minds, when not warmed by the
breath of friendship, are too cold to satisfy the social
cravings of our nature. The satisfaction derived from sur-
veying the most beautiful forms of nature, or the most
* Pleasures of the Social Affections.
f The best thing corrupted becomes the worst.
SOCIAL AFFECTIONS AMONG PUPILS. 159
exquisite productions of art, is so far from being complete,
it almost turns to uneasiness, when there is none with
whom we can share it ; nor would the most passionate ad-
mirer of eloquence or poetry consent to witness their most
stupendous exertions, upon the single condition of not
being permitted to reveal his emotions."*
Families are often made the seat of unutterable wretch-
edness, by the unsocial habits of a single individual ; and
that too, often, when the same individual possesses a good
natural understanding and a kind heart. The father, per-
haps, from being compelled by his situation to rely much
on his own judgment, falls into the unsocial and hateful
habit of allowing no member of his family to think for him-
self in the smallest matters, and in consequence is
dreaded as a dictator, rather than revered as a parent.
Or the mother happens to be one of those sublimated
ladies, who have contracted a wanton indifference to the
feelings of others, by perpetually refining upon their own.
The children will copy the faults of both parents, according
to their several tastes. One will aim at decision of char-
acter, and land upon obstinacy in trifles. Another falls
into a whining delicacy and considers herself privileged to
make war upon the cheerfulness of whatever company she
is in. A third unites the faults of both parents in the same
character, and is hourly vibrating between the odious ex-
tremes, — overbearing arrogance and fatiguing childishness.
A fourth is moody and low spirited, and thinks this mon-
strous excuse a sufficient justification for not being cheerful,
And, in fine, the whole family are agreed in no one thing
but the neglect of each other's peace ; and thus, without
anything positively wicked in their hearts, they are con-
stantly running foul of each other's feelings, until impa-
tience is exasperated into fretfulness or jealously, and the
fannly becomes a fountain of bitter waters; — and all for
the want of some one to show them that it is the easiest
thing in the world to be happy. It is no exaggeration to
say that the families of New England have suffered more
domestic unhappiness from the above-named causes, than
from all others put together. It is often painful to observe
in some families, a child of a naturally amiable temper, un-
* Works of Robert Hall, p. 124.
160 AIR BLANCHARDS LECTURE.
dergoing this souring process, without knowing how to
escape, or what to do.
3. Ill regulated social feelings produce nearly all the
fretfulness and repining, melancholy and dejection, so com-
mon in society. If a man has learned to " rejoice with
them who do rejoice, and weep with them who weep,"*
there will always be enough happiness in the world to pre-
vent his being wretched, and enough of misery to secure
him from the dizzy flights of extatic joy. But when, from
neglect of cultivation, the social feelings sink into selfish-
ness or sensuality, the imagination becomes introverted or
polluted, and the heart is thenceforth a festering centre of
uncomfortable emotions. Thus one man pines under the
disappointment of his wishes, and another sickens by their
gratification. Such people are always unhappy, always
haunted with the consciousness of the vanity of this world,
unrelieved by the hopes of a better ; and though not always
perfectly miserable, they are never quite content. Their
most comfortable state is a mere vapid vacuity of bliss.
" The heart's affections, like earth's brilliant streams,
Must flow in channels ; — radiate in beams ;
Ifunce self-centred, to their source they turn,
Like pools they stagnate, or like meteors burn."t
4. But the languid and odious habits of complaining,
melancholy, and moroseness, are the mildest forms of per-
verted social feelings. They also give rise to the more
boisterous and deadly emotions ; — " Pride, stung with im-
aginary neglects and insults ; Envy, wretched at the con-
templation of another's felicity ; and Anger, burning with
resentment, and impatient for the execution of its purposes
of retaliation ; and the other turbulent passions, which, like
the frozen viper in the bosom of the rustic, invariably sting
to death him in whose bosom they are cherished.''^ The
man whose social feelings are right, feels his own peace
impaired by whatever inflicts a pang upon a fellow being.
But when the social out-goings of our nature are stifled or
perverted by selfishness or neglect, like smothered fires,
they eat into the very substance of the soul, and produce
the volcanic eruptions of furious anger, mad enthusiasm,
or unbridled licentiousness !
* Rom. xii. 15. t Pleasures of the Social Affections.
t Prof. Hough's Sermon.
SOCIAL AFFECTIONS AMONG PUPILS. 161
5. For these reasons, among other motives of policy,
the church of Rome has with dreadful forecast, laid the
foundations of her iron despotism in perverted social feel-
ings. By forcibly exiling her clergy from the ten thousand
nameless endearments of domestic life, she has trans-
formed them into a species of epicene monsters in whom
the social longings of our nature flow out in fanaticism or
stagnate in lust ; and by letting them loose upon the mid-
dle ground between the sexes, she has made them the
just terror of both ! They are thus become a species of
half-way race, in most respects " sui generis," possessing
the fractious and cunning obstinacy of the mule, without
the generous nature of the horse, or the patient stupidity
of the ass.*
6. In striking contrast with the Romish priests, stand
a class of beings who are their opposites in everything
except the unrelieved evil of their lives. I mean modern
infidels. The priest attempts to smother, the infidel to
prostitute the social affections. The first seeks to stifle
the sympathies and starve the spirit by the imposition of
galling vows and emaciating penance ; the last turns the
soul loose to browse on the common of vice ! If the two
classes be compared, the priests have a decided advantage.
Their apparent austerity has the merit of seeming diflicult ;
while the licentiousness of the atheists is attainable even
by swine. Romanism furnishes some check on the morals
of the laity, and makes a very efficient prop to a tottering
throne ; while the Atheism of modem times, is mere disor-
ganization embodied in a creed of negatives. It is like the
long sought universal solvent, which in its work of disso-
lution, would not spare even the vessel which contained it.
Nor can I learn that any one ever attempted to apply it to
any practical use, except, like the present, as a philosophi-
cal illustration, to show how opposite extremes in evil meet
in crime ; and to set forth in a clear light the damage
which the soul suffers when the social feelings are violated
* I paused upon this sentence to see if in justice it should not be soft-
ened, but could find no milder terms capable of expressing the result of
ray convictions after much personal intercourse with the Romish Priests
in Canada and elsewhere. If any fear the representation too highly col-
ored, they will do well to consult the " Catholic Herald," published at
Boston.
21
162 MR BLANCHARD'S LECTURE.
by the neglect of proper culture, the arbitrary friction of
unnatural impositions, or the unhinging libertinism of a
Godless infidehty !
7. But if we would see the importance of cultivating
the social affections in its real magnitude, we must look at
the influence they are to exert in fixing the soul's standing
in a future state.
To do this effectually we must here pause a moment in
our progress, and look abroad upon the general subject of
intellectual and moral cultivation : — a field, which com-
prehends, in its wide embrace, the whole business of men
on earth, and the entire employment of spirits in heaven.
Man's errand on earth is, to obtain a competent amount of
information, reduce it to practice and then go away to
enjoy his intellectual and social supremacy in a brighter
and a better world. But that supreinacy is mainly to con-
sist of enlarged and comprehensive affections united with
the information which is necessary to make them acquainted
with the objects of love. And hence, those who have the
most enlarged and elevated social affections, are farthest
advanced in the learning of eternity ! For this social part
of our natures is the scale of character upon which differ-
ent degrees of excellence are marked down in heaven.
Hence, also, those acquisitions and enjoyments which be-
long only to this life, resemble those darkling flowers which
bloom through the night, but close their eyes at the rising
of the sun ! " Whether there be tongues, they shall cease.
Whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away."*
Nay ! even the pious confidence of faith, and the beamy
raptures of hope shall go out amid the realities which they
promise ; and the soul shall stand forth in the awful mag-
nificence of her renovated affections, like some mighty
temple whose grandeur is enhanced by taking away the
loose scaffoldings, which were useful only in the early stages
of its erection. That point in a man's life when his mind
ceases to improve, is merely the signal for the soul to close
her terrestrial concerns. The wings of the imagination
droop — the thoughts creep silently back upon their original :
attention dies ; memory relaxes her hold and lets fall her
bundle of the past, and the whole man seems the relic of a
• 1 Cor. xiii, 8
SOCIAL AFFECTIONS AMOxNG PUPILS. 163
former age, and a way mark to the future world ! But
our social blessings are neither restricted to time nor limited
by space. As those insects, which are about to pass from
the vermicular to the winged state, pass a short period of
insensibility before they escape from their exuviae and float
on the sunbeams of Heaven : so, also, the soul finds, in old
age and death, but a momentary suspension of her progress
toward perfection. And the few steps of her advancement
which lie in this world, are but the beginning of what will
be an ascending flight, which shall tower aloft, until from
her high elevation the spirit looks down upon the highest
star : — the key-stone of the Arch of Heaven !*
8. Now, then, contrast the present benefits which the
social affections confer, with the future enjoyments which
they promise. Here, our dearest connexions are often
sources of pain ; there, they are productive only of delight.
The scenes of friendship and the solaces of home, — nay,
the more exhilarating instances of social enjoyment, where
bosoms beat in the harmony of early affection, or repose
in the quiet of conjugal love, — all, all are fluctuating and
fading as the painted beauty of evening clouds, which
are now burnished in brightness, and now darkened into
gloom ! Far be it from me to underrate the value of fire-
side joys, where, though the wind be loud and the storm
relentless, a circle of glad hearts respond to each other's
caresses in all the easy variety of domestic bliss. But what
are all these, when once compared with that enjoyment
which "eye hath not seen — neither hath it entered into
the heart of man to conceive ! "f Moreover, those who
are made partakers of future happiness, not only enter upon
that state with the certainty that their social enjoyments
will never end, but also with the transporting assurance that
they will always increase. Who, then, shall calculate the
importance of cultivating the social affections, — the very
channels through which all the bliss of eternity must flow?
9. But the social feelings must be cultivated, if ever,
when the mind is young and pliant. Hear on this subject
the testimony of Dugald Stewart : " It is in consequence
*■ These remarks, of course, apply only to the spirits of " them that are
saved." 2 Cor. ii. 15.
1 1 Cor. ii. 9.
164 MR BLANCHARDS LECTURE.
of their imitative propensity that children learn insensibly
to model their habits upon the appearance and manners of
those with whom they are familiarly conversant. As we
advance in life, this imitative propensity grows weaker, our
improving faculties gradually diverting our attention from
the models around us to ideal standards more conformable
to our taste ; whilst, at the same time, in consequence of
some physical change in the body, that flexibility of the
muscular system, by which the propensity to imitate is
enabled to accomplish its end, is impaired or lost."*
Youth is always gentle, docile, and affectionate. Even
the whelp of the lion or tiger responds to your caresses
with the playful innocence of unweaned infancy ; — but
tomorrow, it will tear in pieces the same hand which, today
it licks in very fondness. A change not remotely analo-
gous to this, passes upon the human character in its transi-
tion from infancy to manhood, at least, so analogous, that
if men are ever to form social and amiable characters, you
must imitate the hunters and take them when they are young.
III. What, then, are the best means, by which a preceptor
may cultivate the Social Affections among Pupils 1
\. In the first place, he must feel the necessity of
making specific and strenuous effort to accomplish this ob-
ject. He must not suppose that mere intellectual progress
is social improvement. Dr Beecher has said *' that mere
intellect is nugatory, and may be cultivated to any extent
without purifying the affections or enlarging the heart."
We suppose the devil to possess a vast amount of knowl-
edge with but little relish for society. And common ob-
servation teaches us that a man may be very knowing,
and, at the same time, very base. The minds of some
men seem to be as mathematically regular, and as regularly
cold, as fraught with lore and as full of death as the Pyra-
mids of Egypt. Yet it is a painful fact, that education has
been conducted almost as if there were no social feelings —
nothing but naked intellect. We have analysis of taste,
memory, imagination and reason ; but where, except in
the bible, which also, is too little studied in the schools,
where is the youth to learn how to bear an insult, or over-
look a neglect ; — to overcome his hatred of those who are
*Dugald Stewart's Works, Vol. III. p. 112.
SOCIAL AFFECTIONS AMONG PUPILS 165
disagreeable, and practice that rarest of virtues, a uniform,
cheerful good nature 7 Even those who have written on
the philosophy of the human mind, have said next to
nothing on the subject of the social affections. They have
considered our daily intercourse, only as made up of trifles ;
not reflecting, that these very trifles, though like the wa-
tery particles, they are individually so insignificant as to be
invisible, yet in their aggregate capacity, make up the
mighty ocean of hfe on which we sail. Thus they have
simply put down •' the desire of society," as " among the
original and universal principles of our nature,"* leaving
fiddlers, dancing-masters, and Chesterfields, to inform us
how this " desire of society" ought to lead us to behave.
2. Suitably impressed with the importance of the sub-
ject, the preceptor must set about removing every obstacle
to the free and delightful social enjoyment of his pupils.
That no external hindrances may exist, he must see that
his rooms possess neatness, convenience, and, if circum-
stances permit, a degree of elegance. You cannot be
cheerful or agreeable in a filthy, smoky, or otherwise un-
comfortable room. The mind borrows its tone from the
objects by which it is surrounded. Savages are savages,
because, among other things, they live in the huts of sav-
ages.
3. Externals being properly adjusted, the preceptor
may then address himself to the giant task of subduing
what is refractory and hateful in the dispositions of his
pupils. He finds that a child naturally hates others for
one of three causes : 1. He thinks them disagreeable. 2.
That they misuse him. S. Or else they stand in the way
of his getting something which he desires. In short, a
resentment founded in pride, and fostered by selfishness,
is the antagonist power to every social influence, and
takes the form of disgust, anger, or envy according to the
nature of its object. But for these malevolent passions,
children and youth would be perfectly happy in each
other's society ; for they naturally love those, 1st. whom
they think agreeable ; 2d. who treat them well ; and 3d.
whom it is their interest to love. No pirate is so apostate
from humanity, as not to have his favorite felon. Now
•* Dugald Stewart, Vol. III. p. 408.
1 66 MR BLANCHARD'S LECTURE.
were these unsocial and bad passions eradicated or sub-
dued, it would be perfectly easy to rear their opposite vir-
tues. For there are multitudes who can do a kindness
without haughtiness, to one who can bear an insult with
calmness ; and, as all the " passive virtues are the most
difficult to practice," the youth who has learned to observe
these, will not find it a task to perform the social duties of
active benevolence. The preceptor, will not, of course, ex-
pect to expel every wrong passion by direct effort ; but in
the language of Dr Paley, " by so mollifying their minds by
just habits of reHection, that they will be less irritated by
impressions of injury, and sooner pacified,"* until the hate-
ful emotion altogether cease.
4. The preceptor should, then, in private converse, and
familiar remarks, explain to them their duty as to the vari-
ous forms of disgust; anger, and envy. Let him insist that
it is no virtue to love those who happen to please us, since
pirates and cut-throats do commonly this same thing. If,
then, they would rise a single step above the vilest and
most cruel of human beings, they must feel a cordial affec-
tion for all, even the frownrd and unlovely. Let them un-
derstand that this affection must answer that most strikingly
pliilosophic definition, " Let us not love in word, neither
in tongue, but in deed and in truth :"f anything short of
this, being branded as infamous hypocrisy. To enable them
to do this, the preceptor must show them that every person,
idiots and lunatics excepted, has good qualities enough to
make an interesting character, and if they do not discover
these excellences in every person they meet, it is because
they lack ingenuity or tact to discover or draw them out in
conversation. Every perfect human soul is an interesting
thing ; and is capable of affording an hour's entertainment,
by relating its bare dreams for a single night, to any person
who has either kindness or curiosity. Every teacher knows
how natural it is to dislike those scholars who are refrac-
tory or disagreeable. The difficulty, in such cases, is, not
that the scholar has no engaging qualities, but that teach-
ers want either the wit or the inclination to discover them.
The man who takes colts to break, is called a blockhead if
he bring them back complaining that their motions are un-
* See Paley's Moral Philosopliy, Chap. vii. 1 John, iii. 18.
h
SOCIAL AFFECTIONS AMONG PUPILS. 167
gainly and awkward. The teacher is to the mind of his
pupils, what the groom is to the body of the horse.
5. Another important object of a preceptor's efforts,
should be, to make his pupils habitually sensible of their
own faults. He should inform them distinctly, that each one
of them has some things in his or her appearance, disposi-
tion or life, which are exceedingly disgusting. And he
may boldly appeal to the consciousness of each one for the
truth of what he asserts. Few, indeed, are those, who if
their hearts were letters, would dare to have their nearest
friends read them. And as a person never feels more ten-
der of others, or appears more amiable than when modestly
sensible of his own imperfections and faults ; il a teacher
can make this state of mind habitual among his pupils, the
most difficult part of his task in subduing their evil tem-
pers is done.
6. But the most difficult thing which students find in
the practice of the social virtues, is, to get over the ill-treat-
ment which they receive from others, and retain their
sweetness of temper. This, however, can be done. To
guard his pupils here, the preceptors should teach them to
look upon the misdoings of others, not merely as crimes of
which they are guilty, but also as evils by which they must
suffer. When children have been ever so ill-used by one
of their number, if the offender is brought up and they see
he must suffer, their resentment commonly melts into com-
passion, and they wish they could save him the very blows
which he is to suffer for maltreating them. So also, mur-
derers in the prisoner's box, and confronting the court,
commonly excite more sympathy than the wretches whom
they have butchered, or the friends whom they have bereft.
The reason is, that the people see they must suffer the pen-
alty of their crimes. Now, if pupils can be brought to feel
that every instance of misconduct which they witness must
shortly be exposed in the court-room of creation, and re-
ceive sentence in the concentrated gaze of an assembled
universe ! — and that those who are not wise enough to
secure a substitute, will be compelled to endure the bloody
inflictions in their own persons ; let them once feel — ha-
bitually feel this, and resentment and hatred will drop out
of their hearts ; nay, rather, they will feel such commisera-
tion towards the ill-tempered and the vicious, that when
i
168 MR BLANCHARD'S LECTURE.
they are in conscience forced to inform their teacher of vile
conduct in others, they will do it,
"Sad 88 angels for the good man's sin,
Blush to record, and weep lo give it in.'"
On this point, I shall be pardoned for relating an anec-
dote which occurred recently in my own experience.
Frances, a young miss of sweet disposition and agreeable
manners, came to me in tears on account of rude and un-
kind treatment from one of her mates. I asked what prov-
ocation she had given ; " None at all, sir," and it was
doubtless true. "Why then does she misuse you so?
Are you quite sure you have given her no reason to be of-
fended with you ?" " None, sir," she still insisted. I
then asked Frances what she supposed was the real cause
that her class-mate treated her thus ; whether it must
not be because she had a bad natural disposition ? " No,
sir," again ; " she would not accuse her of that, but she
could not tell what she meant by her conduct." I then
asked Frances, if she would be willing to take her class-
mate's turn of mind in exchange for the abuse of which she
complained. 'Oh, no, no!" she cried eagerly ; " I would
rather suffer ill-treatment myself than misuse others." " It
seems, then," I replied, " that your class-mate's condition
is, by your own confession, vastly worse than your's, so I
shall reserve my sympathy for her. The same things of
which you complain, will, doubtless, make her disagreeable
to others, and will thus torment her through life unless she
escapes from them. Thus, you see, you ought to pity and
love her for the very things which you seem disposed to
blame. For a bad disposition, is in this respect, worse
than a broken limb, — it is much harder to be cured." I
need not say, Frances left the room with a light heart and
smiling face, and I heard no more of her wrongs. In some
such way, may pupils be taught, that anger and hatred are
both uncomfortable and useless ; and that those who mis-
use us, will, sooner or later, be the greatest sufferers by their
own folly.
7. But when the preceptor has succeeded in expelling
disgust at offensive qualities, and resentment for injurious
treatment in others, he has still to grapple with a more
* Campbeir* Pleasures of Hope.
SOCIAL AFFECTIONS AMONG PUPILS. 169
odious and natural passion. It is true, " Wrath is cruel,
and anger is outrageous, but who can stand before envy."*
Envy is a night-ghost, which dogs emulation in all her
paths. The way to treat emulation in a school, is, just as
God treats it in the world. That is, let it entirely alone.
Do nothing to provoke it into action, but substitute nobler
principles of action, as fast as you can get them into the
mind and heart of your pupils. But do not attempt to
tear emulation out of the soul, except by showing how
mean a motive it is, compared with a sense of duty and a
love of good. But envy will still exist. The reason why
it is so common even among children, is just this. Every
body supposes some others are better off than themselves.
But
"If every one's internal care
. ^ " Were written on his brow,
How many would our pity share,
Who raise our envy now.
The fatal secret when revealed,
Of every aching breast,
Would show that only while concealed,
Their lot appeared the best."!
The preceptor's best way to cure envy, is, therefore, to
let his pupils at once into the wonderful secret, that, in this
world, every person finds just as much difficulty as he
knows how to dispose of, and oftimes more trouble than
he knows how to endure ; — that the spirit has a power of
adapting itself to great burdens, which hold the soul steady
by their own weight, so that the slightest troubles often
produce the sorest pangs ! — That while the rich, the beau-
tifiil, the proud and the gay, are harassed by overweening
desires, and tormented by real or imagined sorrows, " There
is," all of the time, " One who tempereth the wind to the
shorn lamb!" Let pupils be made to feel this; and the
moment such truths once gain permanent possession of
their hearts, envy, with her whole brood of subordinate
vipers, — slander, malice, and detraction, repining and
fretfulness, will fly hissing and drewling from their bosoms !
When they see mankind as they are, with a burden fitted
to every shoulder as great as it can bear, they will not, un-
less they are very brutes, desire to increase the load, or trip
• Proverbs xxvii 4. t Anonymous.
22
170 MR BLANCHARD'S LECTURE.
the feet of any pilgrims on this brief and precarious voyage
of life.
8. Besides the instructions specified above, the precep-
tor must devise such as shall meet the peculiarities of each
individual. In private conversation, he must always take
into consideration where a child has been brought up,
whether in a city, village, or country district ; and if he can
get an inside view of the family where he has been raised, it
is all the better. There are faults peculiar to every place, as
there are weeds to every soil. Besides his private conver-
sations, he should daily fix his eye on some one of the
innumerable mischiefs which creep upon the intercourse of
pupils, and make that the subject of a few brief remarks at
night. Impudence, impertinence, swearing and other vul-
garity, may be treated successfully by likening them to
something which they truly resemble, and he should always
have an abundance of comparisons and illustrations on
hand. For all insignificant follies, and filthy habits of con-
versation among pupils, partake of the nature of bats and
cannot bear the light ; so that if a preceptor but examines
them before the school, always applying the Ciceronean
test, '' What is anybody to gain by it ?" these minor evils
will fly away. If the preceptor, for instance, enables his
pupils to perceive the similarity which exists between a
youth pouring out oaths, and other filthy and odious
speeches, and a person undergoing the operation of an
emetic, the school will be like to remember the illustra-
tion the next time they hear a person swear. But ridicule,
like a rusty weapon, leaves poison in the wound, though it
removes an excrescence, and should seldom be used at all,
and never upon individuals; for if it improves their man-
ners, it does it at the expense of the heart.
9. But when the preceptor has done all he can in the
way of stating duties and rules of conduct in particular cir-
cumstances, he has still the more difficult task of making
his pupils practice them. For in the present state of hu-
man nature, you will never get a man to enter on a course
of action, till you convince him he will be a gainer by it in
some way or other. I do not say that there is no virtue
which rests on higher ground than selfishness. But this, I
say, that no man was ever yet converted to virtue or reli-
gion, who did not suppose he would be better oflf by the
SOCIAL AFFECTIONS AMONG PUPILS. 171
change, and it does no hurt, at least, if you wish a man to
enter on the path of duty, to let him know that it leads to
heaven. Now, the preceptor can convince his pupils, in a
thousand way*, that they will be gainers by rigidly observ-
ing their social duties, and avoiding every rankling and
resentful passion, even when they are wronged. Indeed,
it is so evident, no man ever made anything, on the whole,
by a quarrel, that if everyone would soberly pause, and
ask what he is like to gain for himself or anyone else,
before entering on hard feelings or bitter words, few, very
few, would either be harbored or spoken. If he must be
wronged in his interest or feelings, and the law would not
protect him, he would endure it as he does a hail storm or
a plague, staying himself upon the hope of future sunshine
and sound health. You will perceive, at once, that these
are principles which the venerable William Ladd, and the
Peace Society are worthily laboring to disseminate.
10. But what pupils are to gain in their interests by a
disposition to " bear all things and endure all things,"*
may be clearly made to appear from our utter dependence
upon one another. For, though all whom we meet may
not have it in their power to do us a kindness, yet no
one is so mean as to be incapable of doing us an injury.
And none, therefore, can safely be neglected as impotent,
or despised as weak. A few small worms may sink a
whole fleet, which has outlived a thousand tempests.
11. Yet pupils are most likely to be excited to a right
cultivation of the social affections, by showing them what
they are to gain in their manners. For every one would
like to be agreeable. And the free exercise of the social
feelings, makes their possessors the most interesting people
on earth. It produces the utmost simplicity and sincerity
of manners ; for those whose feelings are kind to all, have
nothing to conceal. And " nothing except what comes
from the heart can render even external manners truly
pleasing." " Not the warmest expressions of affection, the
softest and most tender hypocrisy, are able to give any sat-
isfaction, where we are not persuaded the affection is
real."f Dr Brown's celebrated definition of politeness,
places in clear light the connexion between the social affec-
" I Cor. xiii. 7. Spectator, No. 170.
172 MR BLANCHARD'S LECTURE.
tions and the manners. " Politeness," he remarks, " is
nothing more than a knowledge of the human mind direct-
ing general benevolence. It is the art of producing the
greatest amount of happiness, which, in the mere external
courtesies of life, can be produced by raising such ideas or
other feelings in the minds of those with whom we asso-
ciate, as will aflbrd the most pleasure, and by averting, as
much as possible, every idea which may lead to pain."*
From which it appears, there can be no such thing as true
politeness, without tenderness of the feelings of others.
12. Moreover, not the manners alone : — The very coun-
tenance is improved and beautified by the social affections.
What Addison has said of the virtue of good nature, may
be affirmed with tenfold truth of these. " They are more
agreeable than wit, and give a certain air to the counte-
nance which is more amiable than beauty. "f The faces
of corpses appear much the same, though the contour of the
face, and the prominent features remain unchanged by
death. The varied and endless diversity of living faces, de-
pends, mainly, on what is called the language of the looks,
or " expression of countenance," which is little more or
less than the expression of the social feelings. If these are
active and amiable, the countenance will be gentle and
agreeable ; but a handsome face without sweetness of tem-
per, is a contradiction in nature. It may be fine, it cer-
tainly is not fair. It is perversion of language to talk of
the beauty of a snake because its colors are fine.
13. In this way may the [)receptor labor to clear away
the obstructions which lie in the way of the social feelings,
but the affections themselves can only be called into action
by the omnipotence of example. You may inform the
intellect, in many things, by precept alone ; but teaching
the affections by precept, is a flat absurdity. There is a
chameleon habit in our natures, which makes our feelings
change their color to those we behold. What Horace has
so finely said of the emotion of grief, may be repeated with
equal propriety of the social feelings : " If you would make
me weep, weep yourself."J Hence there is no more ludi-
* Philosophy of the Human Mind, Sect. 4. t Spectator, No. 119.
Si vis me flere, dolendum est
Primiim ipse tibi : — Hor. Dc Art Poet 102.
SOCIAL AFFECTIONS AMONG PUPILS. 173
crous spectacle on earth, that a pair of sturdy polemics, —
both claiming a profound acquaintance with the laws of the
human mind, and both violating its simplest principles, by
attempting to argue and reason each other into the meek-
ness and love of the gospel. If one would just feel the
emotion he wishes to produce, and let the other look in
his face at the same time, he would accomplish his pro-
fessed object, without uttering a single word. If there be
a sight to match this, it must be that of an austere, morose,
overbearing or snappish teacher, hoping to lecture his
pupils into cheerful and amiable beings. If ever a man
should be amiable, if ever he should be able to blend a
horror of vice and misconduct, with the utmost kindness to
those guilty of it — if ever he should be above irritation,
and private resentments, it should be when he undertakes
the care of young minds. These are the qualities which
conferred on Socrates, the prince of preceptors, his terres-
trial immortality ; and gave him such a mastery over the
minds and hearts of his pupils, that his decisions were to
them as the oracles of God. Listen to the account of Soc-
rates, given in the simple and beautiful narrative of one
whom his instructions had raised to a pitch of greatness,
which the human character has seldom attained, and never,
perhaps, in all respects, surpassed. " I observe all other
teachers," he remaiks, " showing their pupils by what
means they may put their instructions into practice ; and
urging them to this by argument: — but I saw Socrates,
exhibiting in himself, the goodness and excellence which he
taught, at the same time, discoursing in the happiest man-
ner, concerning virtue and all human perfections."*
14. Next to his own example, the preceptor should
rely on that of others, both living and dead. He should
never let a day pass without bringing before the tninds of
his pupils some striking trait in the characters of those who
have distinguished themselves for command of temper, and
persevering kindness, under ill-usage. Such, for instance,
as the story of Pericles, who, after patiently enduring the
* As all translations must fiiil of presenting the beauty or the entire import
of the original, I shall transcribe the passage paraphrased above. Iluyrag
3s rovg diduCxovTag oQci avTOvg Set;(vviTag Ts Tolg ^lavSavovoiv, tj/icQ avroi
noiovaiv u SiSj.ay.ov0i xai rio Xoyto nqoc^i^atovToig. OiSa Se xat SwxoaTtiV
SsixvvvTa roig ^vvovai savTov xaHov y.etya&ov uvra, xai SiaXtyiutvov xuXliara
ntoi anfctjg xai ciXXwv 'arSQvirchoir. — Xen. Mernorab. Lib. I. Cap. II. 17.
174 MR BLANCHARD'S LECTURE.
railing and reproaches of an impudent villain who followed
him in public with curses the whole day ; and having
despatched much important business in the meantime ;
when night came, and the fellow had followed him home,
all the way reproaching him with a deformity of his person,
or some of his actions : — sent a servant to light the rascal
home, as the only punishment he chose to inflict. Such
was the calm, unruffled temper of Pericles, — the man who
controlled, by the force of his own genius, the stormy re-
public of Athens, during the extraordinary period of forty
years. And such was the strength and purity of his social
feelings, that he accounted his never having made an Athe-
nian put on mourning, as the brightest feature in a long
life, which he had distinguished by everything which is
splendid in success.
Fenelon, who was, at once, the most amiable of tutors,
and the most virtuous of men, was in the constant practice
of teaching by the example of others. I shall take the lib-
erty of loosely putting into English, the sentiments, which
he represents Minerva, in the form of Mentor, as uttering
to the young Telemachus, in praise of a character, which
she proposes for his imitation. " His frankness," contin-
ues she, " in acknowledging his faults ; his mildness ; his
patience under the severest rebuke ; his courage, in pub-
licly repairing the mischief he has done, and thus exposing
himself to the shafts of envy and satire ; all indicate a soul
truly great. It is far more glorious thus to recover ones
self, than never to have fallen."*
This method of instruction should be pursued, in short,
oral lectures, as often as once each day. And the precep-
tor should not only illustrate his meaning, by anecdotes
from the lives of eminent men, but he should bring the
subject to the very condition in which his pupils are, or ex-
pect to be, placed in life, and show them how Pericles,
Titus, Vespasian, or Peter, Emperor of Russia, would
have conducted, in just such circumstances as theirs. Could
teachers be induced to set about the business of presenting
* Sa simplicity & avouer son tort, fa patience pour se laisser dire par moi
les choses les plus diires ; son courage conlre lui-raetne pour reparer pub-
liquement scs tautes, et pour se meltre par la au dessus de toute le critique
dcs hommes, montre une &me veritablement grande. 11 est bien plus gloir-
eiix de se relever ainsi,-que n'etre jamais tombe. — Fenelon.
SOCIAL AFFECTIONS AMONG PUPILS. 175
characters to their pupils, either as *' patterns to imitate, or
examples to deter," they would find the same passion,
which creates such an absorbing interest in the youthful
bosom, while they pursue some imaginary hero through the
intricate windings of some insipid novel, may be employed
to their infinite advantage, by enabling them to behold, as
in a glass, the social feelings in the characters of others,
until they become changed into the same image.
15. The last means of cultivating the social affections,
which I shall mention, and the one without which all oth-
ers will inevitably fail of their intended effect, is the influ-
ence of Christianity. " There is a chasm in the construc-
tion of mortals, which can only be filled by the firm belief
of a rewarding and avenging Deity, who binds duty and
happiness, though they may seem distant, in an indissoluble
chain."* The heathen philosophers were enabled to under-
stand and practice the social virtues, only in proportion as
they approached this belief, while the whole multitude of
their times, beyond the reach or rescue of their philosophy,
lay wallowing in the styes of pollution and excess, or
writhing under the hard hand of disease in wretched stalls
of poverty, whose porter was death. In truth, pupils have
nothing, but this belief, which can encourage them to per-
form the self-denying part of the social duties. For the
world was always more or less unreasonable and ungrateful.
Of course, he who labors and contrives for the good of
mankind, needs the excitement of an ever-present God,
who will not suflfer any, even the least good emotion of his
heart to go unrequited ; but whose glory it is, both to re-
ward openly the things done in secret, and, at the same
time, to conduct his government with such punctilious
exactness, that "there is no darkness or shadow of death
where the workers of iniquity may hide themselves."*
Such, in substance, was the belief of Socrates,^ and it was
this which raised him above the malice and vengeance of
the Athenians, and enabled him to persevere in treating
them kindly, while overwhelmed by the storm of their per-
* Hall on Infidelity. t Job xxxiv. 22.
I yioxTij TO S^tior,"oTi TonovTov xai xoiovtov iariv, wad' aua
navTa oqav, xai navra axoimr, y.ai navra/ov naoenai, xai atia tiuvxvjv
cniueXsia^at. — Xen. Memorab. Lib. I. Cap. IV. 18.
176 MR BLANCHARDS LECTURE.
secution and abuse. Those, only, who fear God, are
above the fear of man.*
But if the preceptor means his pupils shall rise above the
social condition of the heathen Greeks, he must not be
content to teach only those fundamental truths concerning
the existence of the Deity ; he must daily inculcate some
portion of that which distinguishes Christianity from reli-
gion ; — some one of that bright constellation of soul-puri-
fying truths which cluster around the " Lamb of God who
taketh away the sin of the world." Let him do this ; not
in the heedless indifference of casual remark ; but with the
solemn earnestness of affectionate belief. And let him
remember, while he is thus employed, he is laboring upon
the very materials, out of which heaven is made ; and he
may exult in the consciousness, that he is applying the only
means.
Which bid the chastened spirit hope to shaie
Those social sweets which bloom immortal there !
Gentlemen of the Institute — Suffer me, in closing
the present remarks, to ask you, to reflect anew on the
serious importance of the business in which you are occu-
pied. In a perfect state of society, the whole amount of
human effort is concentrated upon two objects, the culture
of the mind, and the welfare of the body ; and for such a
state of society, prophecy bids the world to hope. It is fit,
then, that you should annually convene upon this spot,
where human freedom first dared to draw her breath, to
deliberate on the means for the more perfect disenthral-
ment of the human intellect, that no tyrant error may chain
down her energies, and no insatiate habit may prey upon
her wealth. The business of the teacher, though toilsome,
is yet delightful, and though retired and unobtrusive, is yet
fundamental to the social fabric. Legislatures may enact
laws, but education must originate their conception, and
interpret their meaning. Governments may check and
restrain, but duty and obedience are the results of instruc-
tion. The hopes of «»ur country depend on the bias which
the minds of her children and youth receive ; and, in the
providence of God, the prospects of mankind are nearly
* Souvcnez-vous quo ccux qui craignent les Dieux n'ont rien i craindre
des honitnes. — Fenelon.
SOCIAL AFFECTIONS AMONG PUPILS. 177
identified with the hopes of our country. But this is not
all. Though the present inlerests depending on our sys-
tem of instruction, are so vital and so vast, these interests
are destined to become more and more momentous, as the
melioration of our race advances, and the plagues by which
they have long been infested, one by one die away.
Up to the present date in tlie history of the world, per-
haps one half of the energies ol mankind, have been,
directly or indirectly, wasted in the business of war, or
crippled by systems of oppression. And at least one half
of the remainder has been squandered in the dreams of
error, or annihilated by the operations of vice. But there
is evidently a looking towards a time of quiet among the
nations, and the boundless energies, which shall from time
to time be called off from the declining afTairs of human
slaughter and oppression, can find employment only in the
subjugation of nature, and in making her yield up her
stores for the comfort of the body and the improvement of
mind. So, also, if the christian hope is to be realized, and
the whole scheme of vice is to become gradually a sinking
concern, then every new conquest of virtue will turn loose
a host of recaptured energies into the same fields of blessed
industry, until the whole outgoings of human power, shall
converge in the two harmonious points, — the acquisition
of knowledge, and the reducing of it to practice; and thus
exhibit to the admiring universe, a world whose entire pop-
ulation are occupied in doing good either to the body or
the mind. And this is a perfect state of society.
On reviewing the preceding remarks, it cannot but be
observed that the rules laid down for cultivating the social
feelings, are such as, if children once thoroughly imbibe,
they could not but shrink with horror from all war, spirit-
ual despotism, slavery, intemperance, and impurity — the
head evils under which the world at present groans. For
that social affection which would enable them to sufTer
wrong with kindness, would of course restrain them from
the wanton commission of it ; and it is thus evident, that
while we are laboring to extend the dominion of principles
like these, we are doing all in our power to hasten the ap-
proach of that period, renowned in the history of things,
after which the eyes of successive generations have gazed
with dimming eagerness, when the jubilee of universal
23
178 MR BLANCHARDS LECTURE.
emancipation shall sound ; for every fetter is broken, and
the temples of vice and infamy are forever fallen !
The result of the whole is, that if the above representa-
tions contain anything of truth, the business of ascertaining
" how to teach the best things in the best manner," is
second in importance to none other ; and although we and
our children may die without witnessing the results toward
which our efforts look, yet will our last moments be cheered
by the consciousness of having labored aright, and illu-
mined by the assurance that the world will yet realize that
bright anticipation, toward which
" We oft have gazed, and gazing deemed we saw
The social bond a whole creation's law ; —
One realm of peace tiie universe become,
Mankind a brother-hood, and earth a home ! "*
* Pleasures of the Social A flections.
x\ P P E N D I X .
The following paragraphs contain subjects for short oral lec-
tures to pupils on closing the school at night, each one of which
should be illustrated by suitable anecdotes, drawn from living
characters or from history.
1. Never be jealous either in love or friendship, A little time
will make it plain if your love is not reciprocated, or your confi-
dence is abused. But if you manifest the least jealousy, you will
disgust your friend and create hatred if it did not exist before.
2. A sad face is like a tax-gatherer who takes something from
the comfort of every one he meets. If you are in trouble, do not
trouble others with your sorrows, only when you need their sym-
pathy or assistance; then do it cheerfully.
3. Do not hate those who are disagreeable. You do not hate
a person who has a hump upon his back, yet a crooked body is
nothing so great a misfortune as a crooked soul.
4. Do not be fretful when those whom you love treat you ill.
It ii ten chances to one that you have given them some provo-
cation ; and, if so, your anger is unreasonable; if not, it is use-
less. Besides, if unprovoked tliey have mal-treated you, their
disposition is a standing curse, while your high injury will soon
be forgotten.
5. If you find it hard to get rid of a fault, write it down and
read it every Saturday night.
6. When in company with those who are rude and coarse in
their manners, be doubly on your guard. They will endeavor
to bring you to conduct like them and then despise you for it.
1 80 APPENDIX.
A clown always respects a gentleman, even when he finds fault
with him.
7. The way to be agreeable is — 1. To love everybody as the
Bible requires — 2. Be perfectly sincere — 3. Door say nothing
unless you know it is strictly proper.
8. Fix it in your mind that one condition in life is but a trifle,
if any happier than another, that it is quite probable those in
the best situations are the most wretched.
9. If you complain of circumstances beyond human control;
that is as if you were saying God does not manage his own busi-
ness aright, and you wish he would do better. But if you com-
plain of tire conduct of men towards you ; it is as if you thought
God would not correct them, so you must take it in hand.
10. Remember no one i'* above you except those who are
more virtuous and pious : and that innocence may make you at
ease in all companies.
LECTURE IX.
THE MEANING AND OBJECTS
OF E D U C A T I O N
BY T . B . FOX.
MEANING AND OBJECTS OF EDUCATION.
You have all probably read of the two stout knights,
who, travelling from opposite directions, approached each
other at the point of a road, over which a shield was sus-
pended. You recollect, also, that they came to a stand,
and began to dispute about the materials of which the shield
was made : one asserted it to be gold, while the other
affirmed it to be silver. To settle the question they lev-
elled their lances and commenced fighting. When the
battle was over, they rode on, and soon discovered that
both were right and both wrong ; for the shield was neither
all gold nor all silver ; but one half was composed of the
former, and the other half of the latter of these metals.
This legend is not an unapt illustration of the conduct of
men, with regard to more important matters. They fre-
quently are so situated as to see only one side of a subject,
and then they aver that side to be the whole of it. As in
the formation of a pin, so in the most momentous concerns
of life, division of labor is necessary ; therefore, we are gifted
with a diversity of tastes, that we may discharge different
branches of labor. But an evil sometimes follows from this
arrangement. We are in danger of supposing, from the
interest we take in it, that our peculiar department must be
of prime importance. If the homeliness of the expression
may be pardoned, we not only have our hobbies and ride
them hard, but we are also apt to jostle our neighbors
aside, and claim the whole highway for ourselves.
This propensity will, perhaps, account for many of the
disputes concerning education. Certain habits of mind,
peculiarities of temperament or other circumstances, have
184 MR FOXS LECTURE.
led individuals to attend mainly to some one branch of this
great subject ; and ardent love for their favorite, soon cre-
ates an exaggerated estimate of its relative importance.
For example, one person observes that the body has not
been duly honored ; and when you listen to him, you
would imagine that to regulate the diet, use an abundance
of cold water, and exercise so many hours by the watch
every day, is the chief business of man. Another, fond of
a quiet study, and of " converse with the might) dead,"
ridicules the whole system of gymnastics and calisthenics,
and esteems it a matter of very little consequence, how
soon you destroy the nerves, relax the muscles, or bring on
the dyspepsy, provided you fill the mind with the rich lore
of other days. A third believes that time spent in the
study of the dead languages, literature and metaphysics, is
time squandered. He is a great advocate for the useful.
Talk to him of any species of knowledge which cannot be
so applied as to make money yield more than six per cent,
or which does not aid in the construction of steam engines,
cotton mills and railroads, and he beseeches you to be
more practical. Thus it is, that an exclusive attachment
to particular portions of the great business of education,
tends to make us forget that all branches are necessary,
and all of equal value when considered as members of a
whole. Newton, we are told, once read Paradise Lost, and
when he had finished it, laid aside the book with the cool
question, "What does it prove?" and the Poet would
probably, in his turn, have treated the mathematician's
algebraic formulas, much in the same way as did his little
dog Diamond, when he upset the candle upon them, and
destroyed the labor of years. Thus prone are all men to
transform into Nazareth's, all the world, save their own
little paradise. They forget that the humblest wheel is re-
quired to make the machine perfect ; they forget that the
organ blower is not to be despised, for without his bones
and sinews, the genius of Handel could extract no music
from that sublime instrument. So much of this bigotry is
there, upon all subjects, that society resembles but too well
the old fable of the quarrel among the members of the body,
and recjuires to be often reminded of the sound doctrine of
the apostle ; '•' The body is not one member, but n>any.
If the whole body were an eye, where were the hearing.
I
MEANING AND OBJECTS OF EDUCATION. T86
If the whole were hearing, where were the smelling ; and
if they were all one member whoro were the body. But
now are they many members, yet but one body. And the
eye cannot say unto the hand, I have no need of thee ; nor
again the hand to the feet, I have no need of you."
To apply this doctrine to the subject of education, is the
design of this lecture. We propose to take a brief view of
the whole purpose of this science, and to speak of its great
branches, as parts of a grand whole. In doing this we
should not attempt to say anything very novel, for that
probably would be to say what is not true. We will not,
however, apologise for the triteness of our topic. It is
quite as important to bring out the old as the new contents
of the treasury ; and all teachers, who seek to benefit their
fellow-men, will find, that the greater part of their work,
like that of the maker of bank-note plates, will be to roll
the same die repeatedly upon the same material, in order
to deepen the impression and make it so legible that he
who runs may read.
The derivation of the term education, will serve as our
text. It comes from a latin compound verb, which means
to draw out — to develope ; hence education is simply de-
velopement ; and is a very different thing from instruction,
with which it is oiten confounded. Instruction is the put-
ting in, or the communication of facts and ideas. It is the
furnishing of the scholar with information, the loading of
his memory, the filling up of his mind with a knowledge of
things ; and, therefore, it is only a part, and an inferior
part of education properly so called. This distinction
ought to be remembered ; for to forgetfulness of it, many
false theories and many practical errors are undoubtedly to
be ascribed. So common is the notion, that these two
words are synonymous, that multitudes suppose education
to signify but little more than that erudite politician who
once gave as a toast, " The fundamentals of education, the
three k's — Reading, Riting, and Rithmetic." Some, to
be sure, add Geography, History, and Grammar, and a
few swell the list still more ; but most seem to believe that
the business of an instructor is to regard his pupils, to use
a borrowed expression, as so many empty vessels, into
which ho is to pour the contents of n<? many books as pos-
sible -y and he is looked upon as the best master, who can ^
24
186 MR FOX'S LECTURE.
in a given time, do the most at this cramming process.
This notion should at thia day be banished, and the true
office of the teacher be better understood. Keeping in
view, then, the definition just given of education, we may
go on with our remarks, directed by a safe guide.
Everything which has life is produced in an embryo
state, consisting of certain powers and capacities, which
are successively to be brought into action and regularly un-
folded, according to the laws of its nature. This is true of
the plant ; the acorn by such a process becomes an oak —
the smallest of all seeds, a great tree. This is true of the
animal : the helpless cub, by such a process, grows up to
be the sagacious elephant. This is true, also of man ; the
infant, destitute of strength, knowledge and affection, by
such a process, is changed, under proper culture, to a be-
ing but little lower than angels. Moreover, education has
reference to the whole man, the body, the mind and the
heart ; its object, and, when rightly conducted, its effect is,
to make him a complete creature after his kind. To his
frame, it would give vigor, activity and beauty ; to his
senses, correctness and acuteness ; to his intellect, power
and truthfulness ; to his heart, virtue. The educated man
is not the gladiator, nor the scholar, nor the upright man,
alone ; but a just and well-balanced combination of all
three. Just as the educated tree, is neither the large root,
nor the giant branches, nor the rich foliage, hut all of them
together. If you would mark the perfect man, you must
not look for him in the circus, the university, or the church,
exclusively ; but you must look for one who has " mens
Sana in corpora sano'^ — a healthful soul in a healthful
body. The being in whom you find this union, is the only
one worthy to be called educated. To make all men such,
is the object of education.
This doctrine being correct, it leads on to other interes-
ting thoughts. We have said that the unfolding of all the
powers and capacities is education. From this, it follows,
that all departments of our nature are to be attended to,
and that none of them can with safety be overlooked.
Obedience to the laws of one, will not avert the conse-
quences which follow the infringement of the laws of oth-
ers. An Herculean body will not supply strength to the
intellect ; a Baconian mind will not afford purity of heart ;
I
MEANING AND OBJECTS OF EDUCATION. 187
a Howard-like philanthropy will not fill the office of a cul-
tivated understanding. So, on the other hand, no amount
of talent will bestow the peaceable fruits of righteousness,
and no degree of devotion to the care of the affections, will
heal a wound, or keep off a consumption. Our Maker
has lent us no useless attribute or power ; they are all ne-
cessary to one complete being, and to despise and abuse
any of them, is, sooner or later, to meet with trouble.
This truth is worthy of notice, if for no other reason, be-
cause it will explain, in a manner, occurrences at which we
are sometimes disposed to wonder, as mysterious. We
ask, for instance, why do infants die ; why are mothers
taken from their young families ; why doth the good man
suffer pain ; or why is the fervent and useful man cut
down ? When such questions are propounded, the truth
before us will often furnish an answer to them. In the
person of the babe, or by its guardians, some essential con-
dition of health has been violated. The mother, though
she might love and faithfully cherish her offspring, broke,
through ignorance or rashly, some commandment of that
physiological decalogue, written in the constitution of the
body. The pious man, indeed, believed with his heart
unto righteousness, but he forgot that care is required to
" keep in tune a harp of a thousand strings." It is the
clear testimony of experience, the sure witness of observa-
tion, not a conceit of dreaming theorists, which teaches
that the recognition of one law of our nature will not atone
for the violation of any other. Benevolence will not save
us from lung fevers, but prudence and warm clothing may ;
power of mind will not save us from the pangs of indiges-
tion, but proper diet and proper exercise may ; in a word,
neither knowledge nor goodness, will, like consecrated am-
ulets, save us from disease and premature death, but a
strict and constant adherence to that mode of life, which
science and experience declare to be essential to health,
may. If, in many cases, therefore, we would know whence
are those little graves, covering the blighted buds of earthly
existence ; whence those monuments resting upon the ten-
antless and mouldering clay of the great and excellent ;
whence those marble stones, whereon weeping sons and
daughters have written the words of filial love — we must
be satisfied with the fact, that the dead are dead, because
1 88 MR FOX'S LECTURB.
the constitution of man was not known, or was not heeded.
So, hkewise, we may add, when we meet with zeal without
knowledge, or genius without virtue, or the strong and
noble frame uninhabited by a truth-finding intellect, or a
heart thirsting for righteousness, we must look for a part
of the explanation of these fragments of humanity to the
doctrine before us, viz. that the complete man is made by
giving due attention to his whole nature.
Again, according to our definition of education, how
much ground it covers, how far it extends, and how many
are its instruments and teachers. What is life, but educa-
tion? What is earth, but a vast school room ? What are
all our occupations and duties, but lessons? What are
events, prosperous or adverse, but teachers ? What remains,
when the shadows of the dark valley gather about us, but
the mental and moral habits which have been formed here ?
Were we not evidently made to grow, to advance, to be
developed ? Nothing is more false than the impression
from which multitudes act, that we are to get and keep
something here on earth. As well might the corn say it
was planted to bring forth only the blade, as man suppose
that he is to live for an end at which he arrives in this
world. The corn was planted to be nurtured and to bring
forth, first the blade, then the ear, after that the full corn
in the ear; and man likewise was born to grow until he
reaches that stature of which he is capable. It is not more
certain that the seed you cast into the ground was intended
to strike down its roots into the soil, to lift up the trunk,
spread abroad the branches, in spring to put out its leaves
and blossoms, and in autumn to yield its golden fruit, than
it is certain that the infant was intended to become the
strong, wise, virtuous, religious man. The only difference
in the two cases is, that the seed finishes its course here,
and soon withers and is carried on to its perfection by the
care of providence ; while the infant is to advance forever,
and to be first helped by parental love, and then to move
onward, to a great extent, to glory or to shame, under the
direction of his own will. We will venture even further
than this. We say it with reverence, but if the present be
prophetic of the future, if the command of Christ, be ye
perfect, has meaning and application to us, we say it with-
out fear, the universe is an infinite school, and God the
infinite Teacher. An innumerable company of subordinate
MEANING AND OBJECTS OF EDUCATION. 189
instructors are employed. Experience and the history of
the past, the deductions of reason and the discoveries of
science, the testimony of the senses and the testimony of
faith, the voice of conscience and the ways of providence,
the rehgion of nature and the clear word of revelation ; in
fine, all that acts upon man, and all upon which man acts,
are instruments by which we are to be educated. This
process will continue through all time and all eternity; he
who conceives of heaven as a place of repose, conceives of
that which will not be. But one book too is to be studied
and that is the varied volume of truth. By this is the man
to be sanctified, developed, educated.
But we must leave this theme. We have touched upon
it for two reasons ; first, because we should not neglect any
fit occasion to rectify the narrow, exclusive and bigoted
conceptions of man and creation which are too apt to be
cherished ; but on the contrary, endeavor to guard against
that delusion which would sell the immortal soul as a slave
to time, and use it as a mere machine with which to gather
only the things of earth : and secondly, and mainly, because
the nature and destiny of man is never to be forgotten when
we are speaking of the education of the young. As the
architect lays the foundation with constant reference to the
superstructure to be reared thereon, so ought parents and
teachers to begin their work with an equally constant refer-
ence to that which children may become. They should not
be content with fitting them, as the phrase is, " to get along
in the world;" but looking higher, they should endeavor to
fit them for true life, in the widest acceptation of that sig-
nificant little word.
We turn now to other topics, and in what remains of
this lecture, we will offer some brief suggestions on the
objects to be sought in the education of the young. And
first, as to their physical culture. Tt has already been said
that the body is neither to be despised nor neglected. We
now say, that in the early part of life it demands special
attention, and also that the laws of our animal system should
be a branch of instruction. Clay though the cottage be,
and inferior in worth to the spirit which inhabits it, yet, for
the sake ofthe tenant, as well as for the enjoyment of this life,
it is to be cared for. Health is in itself a blessing ; it is also
a prerequisite to the acquisition of knowledge, or any useful
190 MR FOX'S LECTURE.
labor; and interruptions from disease, at all periods of life,
are accompanied by more or less of loss. Unless, there-
fore, it can be proved — and none will undertake to affirm
that it can — unless, therefore, it can be proved that the body
can take care of itself, or that the effects of the treatment it
receives from its very birth do not extend to after years, it must
receive attention, and those who wear the tabernacle of flesh,
must also know how to manage it. There may have been
much quackery shown on this subject ; and this probably has
fretted soine into the use of unqualified language in opposi-
tion to it. But without the least disposition to defend any
extravagancies, without believing that vegetables, cream and
sweetmeats are the only permitted diet, we contend that
the physical constitution is to be wisely educated. It
would be an imposition upon your patience to argue so
plain a point. Unfortunately, there are two many weak
females, too many broken down students, too many worn
out and crippled laborers in the world to justify the ques-
tion, who did sin, these persons or their parents, that they
are thus miserable? Many of the evils "flesh is heir to"
unquestionably originate in ignorance or neglect of some
of the simplest truths in animal economy. And it is clear
that judicious management and knowledge are as necessary
to the right developement and harmonious action of the
human frame, as they are to the cultivation of the plant.
Accordingly, physiology is an essential branch of in-
struction. Children are to take charge of their own bodies.
They have no aid from instinct. In a certain sense their
whole being is put under their own keeping and it is by
the use of the senses and the reason they are to preserve
health, and to some extent even life itself. Instinct tells
the brute the difference between poison and food ; how
much to eat, and how much to drink ; when to move, and
when to rest : but man is to learn all this by the exercise
of mind. Now look by the light of this fact at the boy,
and remember the lot to which he is born. He is to enter
a world which has many temptations for the sensual na-
ture, he is to be assailed by evil customs from without, and
impelled by desires and appetites from within. He is to
live in various climates, and to engage in various labors of
body and mind. Can he be prepared for this lot, if kept
in utter ignorance of the anatomy, organs, functions and
laws of his corporeal frame. Or look at the girl — for on
MEANING AND OBJECTS OF EDUCATION. 191
this topic we must be permitted to speak with plainness —
remember, as society now is, to what perils she is exposed.
How much do some females neglect exercise. How care-
less are they about their diet. How unwisely do they
dress. The fashions of merry France are too often copied
with servility in this northern region. The body is treated
as if it was by nature far too large for convenience or beauty,
and therefore must be compressed by artificial contrivances.
The neck and shoulders are sometimes covered with fur,
while the feet are left to the mercy of thin shoes and cotton
hose. Comfortable clothing is thrown aside when the ball
room is entered, and a shawl is all that protects the heated
dancer as she returns home in the chill air of evening.
How can the girl be fitted for resistance to these follies, if
you keep her ignorant of the conditions of health. Moral
principle is not an adequate protection. He judges human
nature with harshness, who attributes all devotion to wrong
habits and bad fashions to the absence of a will to do right :
these are formed and followed by multitudes with as little
thought of wrong-doing as men formerly applied to the
ever present decanter. It is ignorance which produces the
evil. If then the young are to be preserved from intem-
perance of all kinds, from sickness and premature decrep-
itude, it must be done, in part at least, by taking care of
their frames in childhood, and teaching them how to take
care of them through life.
Again, children are by and by to become parents, and
this is another reason why we should endeavor to give
them healthful bodies, and instruct them how they may be
kept so. May it not be said with truth that many assume
the responsibilities of parents who in respect to both mind
and body are unfit for them. Who would trust a valuable
animal to one who was unacquainted with its nature. Yet
the infancy of man frequently has no belter guardian than
ignorant love. Mothers there certainly are, who, with all
their tenderness, know nothing of the constitution of the
young beings they are to nurture, and whose blind affec-
tion frequently gives pain when it meant to confer pleasure.
It may not be well to pursue this subject here. But it is
one whose plain and thorough discussion is necessary to a
reform in human condition. To its neglect, the sufferings
of females, the diseases of childhood, the feebleness of men,
192 MR FOX'S LECTURE.
and many moral evils too, are in part to be referred. Prov-
idence never intended that there should be a difference so
wide between the health of brutes and the health of men.
To do it away, then, those who are to enter into the do-
mestic relations should be prepared for them by correct
training and instruction.
We have but little room for details. But before we
leave the subject of physical culture, we must be allowed
to enter our humble protest against one pernicious practice,
quite too common. We mean the sending of infants and
very young children to schools as they are now conducted.
In this we do violence to nature. The early years were evi-
dently intended for the formation of a sound and strong
constitution. The free exercise of the limbs, the inspira-
tion of the pure air of heaven, the enjoyment of those sports
which give vigor and elasticity to the frame, which tinge
the cheek and brighten the eye with the hue and light of
health, are the appropriate lessons of childhood. We are
disposed to confess that a visit to a hospital is as pleasant
to us, as a visit to many of our infant and primary schools.
We have in our mind one of these prison houses. It is a
low, dark room, with seats without backs, crowded by
children from two to six years of age, pale, feeble and list-
less, in all sorts of attitudes, some half, and others, more
happy, wholly asleep, gathered together to blunder and cry
over shapes and sounds they cannot understand, and to be
shaken and scolded into an appearance of order for which
they were never made. It is a sad spectacle, a collection
of sickly plants in a cellar, which ought to be blooming and
growing abroad in the fields.
But in this opinion we may be singular. What, some
will cry out, leave children in ignorance until they are six
or seven years old? Yes, we reply, if shutting them up for
the larger part of the day is the only mode of teaching
them. We are perfectly willing to deprive them of all the
advantages of that kind of treatment. We are not believers
in precocity, the early use of stimulants in education, or
the application of the hot-house or any forcing process to
the young mind. We do not suppose that one will know
less when twenty, because he could not repeat the alphabet
or whine out " a-b abs," when in petticoats. Nay, we are
strongly inclined to think that, "cceteris paribus," he vf'\\\
MEANING AND OBJECTS OF EDUCATION. 193
know more. The doll, jump-rope, hoop and wheelbarrow
are better preparations for a studious Hfe, than the child's
first spelling-book, if it must be conned over in such a
place, and under circumstances similar to those we have
just described. And in this opinion we are now and then
confirmed by facts. Not long since, a gentleman of long
experience as an instructor, told us that a boy of seven
years was put under his care, who did not even know his
letters. His progress was very rapid, and applying himself
with an eagerness and thirst quite unusual, he soon out-
stripped his fellow pupils. The father of the child dealt
thus with him, because a similar experiment with his sister
had been attended by a similar result. There is no danger,
then, of making dunces by abolishing infant schools. Eut
mothers cannot take care of their children, they must send
them to school to get them out of the way. We allow that
this is the case with the poor and with the laboring classes.
We allow that it is supposed to be the case with others.
Yet we imagine that the excuse is often offered by those who
think that fine furniture, dress, visiting, eating and drinking,
are of more importance than the care of their little ones.
We suspect that a little more simplicity in our mode of
life, would be a great saving of time for the more impor-
tant purposes, and we lay it down as an indisputable trutJi,
that mothers^ unless poverty, sickness, or absolute necessity
prevent, are under most solemn obligations to devote them-
selves to their children, at any and every sacrifice of fash-
ionable customs, or pleasure, or personal care. But admit-
ting the objection to be well founded, we think that a
better plan may be devised for the relief of parents than
the one now followed. We are willing to have an infant
school, but let it be after this sort : — Let a large and well
ventilated building be erected, with a clean and spacious
yard, properly shaded and enclosed, connected with it; let
a supply of play-things for both sexes be provided, and a
sufficient number of good natured, competent nurses be
obtained ; and then let those, who cannot take care of their
children at home, send them to this establishment, to romp
and play, work and study a little, if they please, during the
six hours in which they are now abused by confinement.
Such an institution might raise up a race of bright, active
and diligent scholars for our higher seminaries — it might
25
194 MR FOX'S LECTURE.
make the child the father of the strong man — it certainly
would be following instead of thwarting nature.
But the period of infancy soon passes away, and ihe babe
becomes the boy or girl, full of curiosity and intelligence. A
new task now demands attention, and that is the cultivation
of the intellect. It is about this department of educa-
tion, that differences of opinion have been most numerous.
It belongs to the professed teacher, — it is the work to be
done in our schools, and on that account, a great variety in
practice and theory has appeared. We need here, there-
fore, some general principle to guide us ; and that general
principle is afforded by the view we have been presenting.
Our main object should be the developement and the dis-
cipline of the mind. As has already been hinted, we are
not to fill up a vacant space, but to call forth the slumber-
ing powers — not to furnish an empty apartment, but to
exercise the mental faculties. Children are to be taught to
observe, think, reason ; they are to be prepared to acquire
knowledge as they need it, and not to be loaded like beasts
of burthen. It is a great error to suppose that the all-im-
portant matter is to pile up in that store house, the memory,
the contents of books, bundles of facts and other person's
ideas. Yet many have no higher conception of the duties
of a teacher. Proofs of this are found in the conduct of
many parents. " I wish my child to learn to read, write
and spell ; I wish him to study arithmetic and geography,
is the beginning, middle and end of their directions to the
> school-master." They set down acquisition as the end of
education. It is how far the pupil has gone, how many
books he has read, how numerous the branches lie has
} studied ; — these are the usual questions ; not what intel-
I lectual habits has he formed, what mental power has he
obtained. The idea seems to be, that knowledge is a sort
of coin by which subsistence is to be purchased, and the
more one has of it, the richer will he be ; not that progress
in life depends upon the accuracy and vigor with which
the understanding operates. The incorrectness of this no-
tion is apparent. We know little or nothing of the child's
future lot ; we cannot, therefore, except with regard to a
few things, tell precisely what sort of information he may
need ; but we do know that in any and every condition,
his success will depend upon the possession of a well-de-
MEANING AND OBJECTS OF EDUCATION. 195
veloped and well balanced mind. The great object, then,
should be to fit him for all the exigencies and scenes of
hfe, by unfolding and teaching him the use of his faculties.
Just as a strong sane body is preparation for physical labor
of any sort, so a well cultivated intellect is a preparation for
any branch of business. We had almost said, that these
things only are needed — habits of observation, the power
of abstraction, and the ability to think. These include or
fit for all intellectual operations — they are sufficient to ob-
tain knowledge, to produce correct reasoning, and to pre-
serve from great errors of judgment.
From this statement of the design of intellectual culture,
we may deduce some salutary hints as to the mode in which
it should be conducted. One of these, obviously is, that
that method of teaching is best, which most thoroughly and
completely exercises the scholar's own mind. Any "labor
saving machines," are poor aids in education ; for it is, em-
phatically, by labor, that the object of education is to be
accomplished. If the principal thing was to communicate
information the more of these helps the better ; but this is
not the principal thing, — it is, on the contrary, a sub-
ordinate consideration. It would be an absurd way to
strengthen the muscles of the arm, to provide some ma-
chine to do its work ; is it not equally absurd, to think of
invigorating a scholar's mind by diminishing the necessity
for toil ? A judicious instructor will receive with little favor,
patent projects for making learning easy. Facilities for the
acquisition of those elementary branches, and somewhat
mechanical operations, which are, in fact, the instruments
or tools to be used in education, are well enough. But all
devices which purpose to relieve the student from exertion,
to supersede the necessity of strenuous effort on his part,
ought not be countenanced, for it is not so much the things
acquired, as the toil put forth to reach them, which is most
valuable. If it would be mistaken kindness to offer a ride to
one walking for his health, it is equally so to level down the
hill of science into a plain, and to furnish the traveller with
railroads and locomotives. The pupil, we repeat, should
be made to think, reason, invent and judge ; he should be
put upon inquiry, and taught to depend upon himself. Of
all methods, therefore, for teaching the common branches,
that is the best, which, while it watches and assists the
196 MR FOX'S LECTURE.
child, requires also the vigorous exercise of his own mind.
f Of all subjects and books, those are the best, which, in a
: proper manner, task the intellect the most. Such being
our opinion, we take the liberty of objecting, in passing, to
the imposition of systems of any sort upon children. We
have no right to run their minds into moulds, however cor-
rect they may seem to us. We extend this remark to all
subjects with which teachers deal. The young have been
created for inquiries by God, and man ought to be careful to
keep them so. So fast and so far as they are able, let them
be encouraged, on all subjects, to be persuaded in their own
minds, and to judge for themselves what is right. Any
other course than this, concealed by whatever sophistry, or
excused by whatever apologies it may be, is an assumption
of infallibility, and a violation of our natural rights as
rational and accountable beings. Yet it not unfrequently
happens, that instructors labor to make proselytes of their
pupils, to all their peculiar sentiments with regard to all
subjects, and therefore, if successful, they have been only
multiplying portraits of themselves, not blessing the world
with strong-minded and independent seekers for the simple
truth.
The department of education of which we now have
been speaking, is the appropriate sphere of the school-mas-
ter, and a few remarks relative to that officer, will not be an
improper digression, especially since he is frequently so
much abused, and so harshly criticised. We would say,
then, that it is his chief business, as things now are, to take
care of the mind. Some parents appear to think, that he
is responsible for the whole character of their children ; that
he is a sort of guardian to whom they may transfer all their
duty ; that he is not only to take care of their understand-
ings, but likewise of their deportment and morals, not only
in school, but at all times. Now under the present
arrangements, such expectations are wholly wrong. Had
we a class of men, a class of educators, to take the young
and live much with them, they might attend to every de-
partment of their education ; but this is not the case now ;
accordingly there is a division of labor, and the cultivation
of the intellect is the portion assigned to the school-master.
He ought, undoubtedly, to have some regard to the health
and the character of the scholars ; he ought in these things
MEANING AND OBJECTS OF EDUCATION. 197
to co-operate with the parents. But the main purpose for
which he is now employed, is to discipHne and unfold the
mind. And it is both unjust and ungenerous to require
much more at his hands. Over the conduct of his pupils
out of school, over their behaviour at any time, when not in
his immediate presence, he can now have little control ; for
it has been made his work to cultivate the mind.*
One word in passing, as to the selection of teachers.
School-keeping should be elevated, even more than at
present, into the dignity of a fourth profession. The best
minds should be educated for it, and if any class in the
community have a right to a generous support, it is the class
of able and faithful teachers.
Stouber, the predecessor of Oberlin, the Pastor of VVald-
bach, on his arrival in the parish, desired to be shown the
principal school-house ; he was conducted into a miserable
cottage, where a number of children were crowded together
without any occupation. He inquired for the master.
" There he is," said one, as soon as silence could be ob-
tained, pointing to a withered old man, who lay on a little
bed in one corner. " Are you the school-master, my good
friend ?" asked Stouber, " Yes, sir." " And what do you
teach the children ?" '' Nothing, sir." " Nothing ! — how
is that ?" " Because," replied the old man, " I know no-
thing myself." " Why, then, were you appointed the
school-master ?" " Why, sir, I had been taking care of the
Waldbach pigs for a great number of years, and when I
got too old and infirm for that employment, they sent me
here to take care of the children." Now there has been
but little more wisdom shown, even in this favored land,
comparatively speaking, than in the Ban de la Roche.
Cheap teachers have been in demand, small compensation
has been given, and, consequently, in but few places, have
men been found thoroughly fitted for the work, who were
willing to devote their lives to the business of instruction.
* We hope these remarks will not be misunderstood. We by no moans
intend to imply, tliat the true school-master will feel that he is relieved from
ihe care of the spiritual nature of his pupils. The teacher ought to be,
whilst with his scholars, "in loco parentis,'^ — their father and friend.
But to enable him to assume this office, great changes must first be made
in our system of education. Our wholt; meaning is, that in the present
condition of most schools, it is unfair to make the instructors responsible
for the moral characters of their scholars.
198 MR FOX'S LECTURE.
Many teachers engage in it only as a stepping-stone to a
profession ; others take up school-keeping after being re-
moved from other vocations. But, for various reasons, we
ought to have, as has just been said, a class educated for
this purpose — men who have both a taste and a tact for it
— men who are qualified by nature and acquirements to
deal with young minds. " There is no office higher than
that of a teacher of youth," says a writer we have already
quoted, and whose language is hardly exaggerated ; " there
is no office higher than that of a teacher of youth, for there
is nothing on earth so precious as the mind, soul, character
of the child. No office should be regarded with greater
respect. The first minds in the community should be en-
couraged to assume it. Parents should do all but impov-
erish themselves, to induce such to become the guardians
and guides of their children. To this good, all their show
and luxury should be sacrificed. No language can express
the cruelty or folly of that economy, which, to leave a for-
tune to a child, starves his intellect. There should be no
economy in education. Money should never be weighed
against the soul of a child." In accordance with the spirit
of these remarks, the community ought to begin at once to
act. The best teachers should be obtained, treated kindly
and rewarded generously. They should be placed in small
schools ; not set over a herd of scholars, but over a limited
number, so that they can understand and minister to the
peculiarities of each individual mind. They should be
treated with confidence, such as that with which the law-
yer, physician and clergyman is treated. They should be
deemed the best judges of their own business and modes of
operation, and not be exposed to the dictation and caprices
of ignorant or prejudiced parents. With such men, so
encouraged, in our academies and schools the intellect
would be rightly cultivated, and the child fitted for the
duties and exigencies of life, so far as the possession of a
well balanced mind can fit him.
It was our intention to have said something on the moral
education of the young, but we must be content with offisr-
ing a single suggestion upon this most important subject.
From the very outset the soul should be brought as far as
possible under the control of the highest and most enduring
principles. It is quite too common to regulate the conduct
MEANING AND OBJECTS OF EDUCATION. 199
of children by inferior motives, by earthly considerations,
and by reference to expediency. J-.uther once said : " Men
are not made truly righteous by performing certain actions
which are externally good ; but men must have righteous
principles in the first place, and then they will not fail to
perform virtuous actions." An eminent philosopher quotes
this assertion, and remarks that " these terms enunciate a
proposition equally certain and subhme ; the basis of all
pure ethics, the cement of the eternal alliance between
morality and religion, and the badge of the independence
of both on the low motives and dim insight of human laws."
Now this doctrine, thus stated and thus commended, is to be
recognized in the moral education of the young. Children
can much more readily and truly apprehend their relations
to a spiritual world than is generally supposed ; and there-
fore they should be early brought to act with reference to
the government and will of God. It is poor policy to per-
suade them to wear the form of virtue, by setting before
them success in life, or the approbation of friends, or some
specified reward, as inducements to act correctly. The
time may come when these will fail. The object is, to
put them under the command of principles, which, being
derived from considerations above the present world, will
remain operative under all circumstances and changes.
They should be taught to act from a sense of duty; to do
what is right, because it is right. They should be enlight-
ened as to their consciences, and purified as to their hearts.
It is otherwise in vain to look for a consistent life of pro-
gressive virtue. The soul, to withstand the temptations of
earth, must have its affections fixed on something above
earth. In early years, example, association and the vigi-
lance of parents may give the form of goodness; but these
will not always he present to protect the character ; and
the goodness thus produced by circumstances, cannot con-
tinue unstained. The virtue which is to endure must come
from a deep seated conviction of duty and accountability.
The neglect of this truth is one reason why so many fair
youth fall by the way. The good child at home ceases to
be good after he has gone abroad into the world. His cha-
racter was the effect of his well guarded situation, — and
did not spring from a heart early touched with the love of
truth and virtue. Let not labor be put forth, therefore, to
200 MR FOX'S LECTURE.
bring about correct deportment, by any and every means,
but rather let it be put forth so as to reach the affections —
to estabUsh righteous principles. Let the child understand
his own nature, — that he has a soul to save ; let him begin
at once the Christian race, and press on from the morning
to the evening of life towards his heavenly home. We
know this is a difficult task. It is much easier to reform the
outward than the inward man. But when the latter is once
done, it is done. When an enlightened conscience and
habits of obedience to the will of God, get the supremacy,
they keep it. And it is upon these alone, that reliance can
safely be placed. We do not mean that secondary motives
are never to be used, but we do mean that they are to be
employed but seldom, and with the greatest caution. Ev-
erybody, who knows anything of the world, knows that
plausible doctrines of policy and expediency, and a morality
born of earth, and drawing all its support from earth, stand
in the way of reform, and oppose the advancement of truth
more than anything else. There is a philosophy essentially
sensual and carnal, which rules the community. And it
must be banished before any great good can be done to
improve the condition of man. This ejectment must be
performed by the rising generations, who are to be taught
that the only safe and ever applicable rule, is, " duty is ours,
events are with God." It is the worst of all errors, to con-
sult only the temporal welfare of children — to act solely
with reference to present comfort ; we ought to give them
in the outset, governing principles which will remain and
direct them aright forever.
The extensiveness of our subject and the pressure of
other duties have compelled us to deal in very general and
desultory remarks. These, of course, are exposed to criti-
cism, while they also require some qualification, and admit
of exceptions. But the definition and objects of education
have, we trust, been correctly stated, and the principles laid
down, we believe to be sound. That the view now taken,
is recognized to its full extent, in practice, no one will ven-
ture to affirm. An approximation has doubtless been made
towards it, but only an approximation. You look almost
in vain for instances of the systematic culture of the physi-
cal, intellectual, moral and spiritual nature of man. There
19 a wide difference between tiie science shown in the
MEANING AND OBJECTS OF EDUCATION. 201
training of the plant or the animal, and that shown in the
education of human beings. The laws of the human con-
stitution are either not understood, or else they are sadly
neglected. The only mode of correcting this evil, is to
exhibit the truth until it is admitted, until the young are
habitually regarded as commencing their progress towards
a complete being, which is to be arrived at only by the
right unfolding of all their powers and capacities. This
work is to be done, in part, by others, but chiefly by them-
selves. And those who are called to be their educators
should bear in mind this fact, that the duration of their
office is limited. It will not be long before their pupils
will leave them : the parent and the teacher must resign
their authority and will cease to exert a direct influence.
But let it not be forgotten that they are in some measure
responsible for the character of their successors ; what will
be the opinions and principles, the habits of mind and heart
acquired and formed under their direction. This consider-
ation is full of solemnity. To deal with the soul — to be,
perhaps, the cause of effects which may never be obliterated
— to have, in part, the guidance of a being like man, capa-
ble of so much of suffering, or so much of bliss, is an office
full of responsibility. And the parent who is called to it
by providence, and the teacher who assumes it as a profes-
sion, need to seek earnestly for light and wisdom. To get
this light and wisdom, let them be neither besotted conser-
vatories nor rash radicals, but impartial inquirers. Let
them follow nature and sound philosophy — let them study
out and obey the laws of man's physical, mental and moral
constitution. If liberal views, comprehensive and logical
minds, — if freedom from slavery to systems, and freedom
from a passion for novelty, — if a well ruled spirit, and a
well balanced intellect are needed anywhere, they are
needed in the school-room and nursery. Reform in edu-
cation is loudly called for, but not a rash or hasty reform.
Whatever changes are made, should be made by patient
thought, attentive observation, and faithful study. To
insure this, associations like the one now assembled, where
there may be a free exchange of thought, and a useful col-
lision of mind, are very desirable. Here principles may be
settled, various plans examined, and much done to develope
a correct, enlightened and true system of education. We
26
202 MR FOX'S LECTURE.
are all teachers ; some at the fireside, some from the pulpit,
and some in the school ; we are all teaching that same won-
derful and immortal being, man. Let us, then, magnify
our office by a faithful, conscientious and diligent discharge
of its duties ; and our great reward will be the sweet recol-
lection that we have been permitted to aid the growth in
knowledge and goodness of those whom God hath made in
his own image, and upon whom, if worthy, he will bestow
eternal life.
!►
LECTURE X.
MANAGEMENT OF A COMMON SCHOOL
BY T. DWIGHT, Jr.
MANAGEMENT OF A COMMON SCHOOL.
It may well be asked, by those who have reflected but
little on the subject, — why are there so many different
views concerning the management of common schools ?
Why are so few conducted well ? Why is the task rel-
ished by so small a number of teachers, and understood by
so few committees or trustees ? To a person, however,
who has considered the subject aright, and with the aid of
practical experience, the answer is ready to all these ques-
tions. The management of a common school is one of
the most complex of human employments, and involves
some of the principles least understood and most difficult
of application. Let the occupations of men be considered,
let an estimate be formed of the difficulties to be encoun-
tered even in the practice of the learned professions ; and
I am persuaded that they will be found beset by few
sources of perplexity as great as those which embarrass the
common school teacher. If the business of governing men
proves harassing and painful, it is to be remembered that
the teacher participates in similar trials ; for he is obliged
to govern without directions from a superior, without an
inferior officer to assist, without written laws prescribed by
higher authority, and, to a great extent, without many pre-
cedents known or acknowledged. Do men of the most
thorough education usually find themselves unable to com-
municate well the knowledge they have acquired ; and do
they sometimes shrink from an examination into the state
of their minds ? The common school teacher must daily
practice and submit to what they regard as peculiarly diffi-
cult or irksome.
206 MR DWIGHTS LECTURE.
Do parents seek excuses lo avoid the task of training
their children ; and, under the guise of parental love, some-
limes pay large sums to teachers to relieve themselves of
their toilsome duties •' The school-master or mistress
daily bows to the yoke from which they are glad to buy
exemption, and receives in addition a load which would
crush almost any other member of the community. If we
compare the task of a common school teacher with that of
the professor or tutor of a college, whatever may have been
the labor and self-denial of the course which has prepared
him for his station, we find that he is free from many of
the most serious embarrassments of the former. There is
no variety of studies and recitations to be attended to at
the same time or in rapid succession ; there is no great
diversity of ages, habits or circumstances to be considered
in the management of the individuals composing his class ;
the application to be made of the principles of government
and instruction is not embarrassed by an endless compli-
cation.
But look at the teacher of a common school in our
country, such as he is found in the great majority of cases.
Surrounded by thirty or forty children, he has a dozen dif-
ferent branches to teach, some to all, others to a portion of
his pupils. His first task, that of classification, calls for
some of those powers which would be demanded of one
who should undertake to yoke to the plough, the harrow,
and the cart, a herd of all cattle driven together at hazard
in a village pound. And what unnecessary diflSculties are
thrown in the way by the indifference of superintendents
and parents? Hear the complaints of an insufficient sup-
ply of books, bad rooms, furniture and arrangements and
the long list of evils which the teacher learns to appreciate
by too real experience ! Then consider the poor prepa-
ration with which some thirty or forty thousand new teach-
ers annually embark in their toilsome business ! Out of
the sight and hearing of improvements, and far beyond the
sphere of discussion and inquiry, they have little to en-
courage the exercise of their minds in investigating princi-
ples, much less do they receive light or direction in views
not their own.
Happily, however, the employment of a common school
teacher offers peculiar means and opportunities for self im-
MANAGEMENT OF A COMMON SCHOOL. 207
provement. The mind, when urged by strong necessity,
learns something of its own resources ; for it then exerts
its powers. By practice a teacher perceives the tendency
of certain principles of instruction and discipline, and his
circumstances render valuable those which prove successful.
True, under the various embarrassments around him, he
usually makes much less progress than we could desire;
but every improvement introduced by an independent ex-
ercise of reason and resolution, whatever benefit it may
confer upon the school, proves doubly useful to the teacher.
It helps to mature his character, and lays at least one solid
stone in his own education, in a firm position, and a strong
cement.
An exposition of the difficulties and the merits of com-
mon school teachers cannot be fairly made by one of their
own number, because it would assume the tone of com-
plaint on the one hand, and that of self-commendation on
the other ; but it is time that some one not liable to such
charges, should speak plainly of their trials and their de-
serts. While, however, we acknowledge that some of our
teachers have done much considering the difficulties and
discouragements around them, we are bound to expect much
more from ihem, whether we regard the increasing need of
their exertions, the new interest awakening in their behalf,
the opportunities they have for improvement, or the esti-
mable and devoted characters which many of them possess.
Going to school, it is true, under almost any circum-
stances, produces some good effects on both pupils and
parents. The parent performs an act of respect to learning
every day in sending his child, and is led to reflect on the
value of knowledge. The child's unwillingness to go to
school, is to be counteracted by proper considerations ;
and these the parent is occasionally obliged to seek for,
and to present, in order to accomplish his own purpose ;
that is, the persuasion of the child. The progress made by
the latter, be it ever so slow, proves to the parent some-
thing of the utility of instruction. The child conceives a
respect for learning, from being thus prepared, and rea-
soned with, and sent to school, in the company of friends,
on whom, he is sensible, similar exertions are used, and for
similar ends. His early habits are thus almost inevitably
formed, in a degree at least, so that the pursuit of knowl-
208 MR DWIGHT'S LECTURE.
edge is associated in his memory with agreeable compan-
ions and scenes. By these and other influences, to unravel
all which would require a deep knowledge of human na-
ture, schools favorably affect society through entire gener-
ations, even when their standard is far below what it should
be. Still, it probably is true, tiat schools may be so
defective or vicious, as to be real nuisances. There are
some such, it is to be feared, in our own country, which
had better be broken up than continued in their present
state, at least if parents would perform any part of their
duty as the teachers of their children.
Happily it is not necessary to regard any school in our
land as beyond the reach of improvement ; and, such is
our situation, that any individual among us may do mate-
rial good to some school, by aiding or encouraging the
teacher, by exciting public interest in favor of education,
or at least by fitting some child at iiome for the discharge
of his duties in school.
The means of improvement are numerous ; and many
principles might be mentioned, any one of which would
prove of material benefit if introduced into some of our
district schools: order where disorder has prevailed, mild-
ness in government where only violence has been used,
punctuahty in the place of irregular attendance, good man-
ners instead of rudeness, instruction by example where it
has been neglected, motives of duty in the place of emula-
tion ; it is not too much to say, that one of these changes
alone would render some of our schools doubly valuable ;
while the introduction of all these, and such other im-
provements as may be needed, would make them what we
wish them to be.
But what is requisite to effect the changes desirable ?
First, to convince the teachers that they are necessary and
practicable. Some think change unnecessary, because
they are insensible of their own deficiency ; others, be-
cause they have never seen an exhibition of the thing
proposed for their adoption, and suppose they are in pos-
session of the substance of all that is expressed by the term
improvement. Some suppose the object unattainable,
because habits or prejudices are opposed to it. Such
teachers need to be informed concerning the nature of the
character and mind, or rather perhaps to have a simple
MANAGEMENT OF A COMMON SCHOOL. 209
plan for the conduct of their schools placed in their hands,
which might lead them to sound views by the practice of
good methods. This means has been recently adopted in
France, and with extensive and speedy effect.
The defects of the schools of Great Britain, as well as of
the United States, have long been acknowledged ; but un-
fortunately few attempts have been made to point out
remedies. Poets have described the confusion and disorder
which prevail in too many of them, but rather as evils to
be endured than capable of removal ; and thus the common
impression has been strengthened, that common schools are
necessarily confined to a very low standard. Goldsmith
represents the teacher of the school in the Deserted Village,
as ignorant, passionate and fickle j
" A man severe he was, and stern to view ;
I knew him well, and every truant knew.
Full well the boding tremblers learned to trace
The day's disasters in his morning face.
Full well the busy whisper, circling round.
Conveyed the dismal tidings when he frown'd."
The pupils are represented, by the author of the " Coun-
try Schoolmaster," in the " American Poems," in a
no less unfavorable condition for everything like moral
and intellectual improvement ; and unfortunately, not an
intimation is given of any plan for their benefit. The
question has been often repeated without any proper
answer : what more can be expected of a district school ?
Not a few youths, it is to be feared, still regard the profes-
sion of an instructor with much of the feeling expressed in
the Vicar of Wakefield, by the teacher who recommended
a seven years' apprenticeship to a cutler to turn his wheel,
in preference to keeping school.
There is reason to believe, that many of the evils which
infest our public schools, have in general infested the
schools of all ages and countries in which schools have ex-
isted. Some of the Greek and Roman writers, it is true,
prove that good principles of discipline and instruction to
some extent prevailed ; but we often learn from the same
sources that general reformation was needed on many ma-
terial points. A rude drawing of a school was found in
Pompeii, which exhibits as'many imperfections and abuses,
as could well be crowded into so small a compass in any
27
210 MR DWIGHT'S LECTURE.
country. The furniture is inconvenient, the pupils weary,
idle and mischievous, the master ruling with the rod of ter-
ror, and the infliction of the punishment of horsing, as it
has been termed, is actually going on. Whether the blame
justly lay with the teacher of the school, the trustees, or
the parents, we may only conjecture ; but it would seem
that that ancient city was in one sense on the road to ruin
before the eruption of the volcano.
It is an important truth, that certain causes under all
circumstances, tend to reduce schools to one degraded and
uniform level. Improvements may be various, but deteri-
oration appears to tend towards the same point ; and
there is a remarkable resemblance between the majority of
schools in most countries where schools exist, because most
of them are bad. Compare the accounts given by travel-
lers of the schools in China, and in'Mahomedan and Chris-
tian countries ; and it will be found that a poor school is
nearly the same thing all over the world. Words are
taught instead of ideas, fear and emulation are the motives
offered, and the master or a bad routine is depended upon
to do for the child what nothing can do for him but his
own well directed exertions.
It is, however, at once gratifying and instructive to bear
in mind the truth, that principles which are successful in a
few places, may generally be introduced with advantage,
under some form or other, into all.
Let us turn for a moment to consider the situation of
one of our district schools. Even supposing the teacher to
possess the necessary qualifications, and surrounded by all
the favorable circumstances possible in any district in our
country, how would he be able to succeed ? What is the
highest measure of excellence at which he can aim, under
the common system of management ? This may be deter-
mined by estimating the powers or means at his command
compared with the labor to be accomplished. Let it be
borne in mind, that, according to the general practice the
individual system is to be pursued ; that is, to a great ex-
tent, the teacher is to instruct directly but one pupil at a
time.
Suppose a school containing thirty children, divided into
three reading classes, three in writing, one in grammar,
three in arithmetic, and one in geography. Suppose the
MANAGEMENT OF A COMMON SCHOOL. 211
pupils supplied with good and well assorted books and ma-
terials ; punctual, well trained at home and habituated to
the system of the teacher. Who has ever witnessed cir-
cumstances as favorable ? There are, however, twelve
lessons to be heard in a day, if the recitations in each
branch are daily. The size of the classes we may suppose
something as follows : All the school are in the reading and
spelling classes — that is, thirty ; only two thirds of them
write, (though all should,) that is twenty ; one third study
grammar, two thirds arithmetic, one third geography ; and
this makes the whole number of individual recitations to
be heard in one day, ninety. The average time for each,
out of six hours is four minutes, even supposing the whole
time occupied by recitations. But a large reduction must
be made for recesses, administering discipline, mending
pens, interruptions, &,c., which either partly or wholly
draw oft" the attention of the teacher. But it is to be pre-
sumed that several of the classes recite twice in the day.
It will not, therefore, be too much to reduce the time
devoted to each individual recitation to three minutes, or
even to two and a half. Some may yet more ; but if so,
others must suffer in proportion.
Now let any man pursue any branch of study, under a
teacher, and receive attention from him only fifteen min-
utes in a day, how much progress might he expect to
make ? Or, let the time be reduced to half or a quarter of
this, and would it not be thought insufficient, even if study
were faithfully pursued in retirement and without interrup-
tion ? It is easy to blame a common school teacher for
the backwardness of his scholars, or to resort to complaint
and blows to press them forward ; but it is more difficult
to point out a judicious remedy for the evils inherent in
the common system of our schools.
Two systems have been resorted to of late years, to re-
move the difficulties, the almost insurmountable difficulties,
in the teacher's way — 1st, Mutual instruction, and 2d,
Simultaneous instruction. To this might be added a third,
which is, however, only a combination of the first two, viz.
Mutual and Simultaneous instruction. The first is practised
in some of the large cities of Great Britain and the United
States, as well as elsewhere ; the second is approved by
some of the teachers of England ; and the third has been
^I^ MR D WIGHT'S LECTURE.
universally introduced within, three or four years, into the
public schools of France, and many of those of New Gra-
nada.
The objections against mutual instruction are the first
things which present themselves to some minds, on hearing
the system mentioned : the want of capacity in monitors,
the want of mutual respect among children, the unwilling-
ness felt by some parents to have their children placed in
an inferior rank — in fine, the want of the teacher's per-
sonal agency in every step and department, and the tend-
ency of the system to degenerate into a dead routine.
In answer to these objections, it is said that only incom-
petent masters allow their monitors to be deficient, or
permit them to exercise discipline, or neglect the frequent
personal examination of all the pupils ; and that the evils
above enumerated spring only from the abuse of tlie
system.
In simultaneous instruction, many are taught together,
instead of one at a time, by various devices, some of which
are very simple, and most of which may be so used as to
effect a great saving of time.
It has been suggested that the principles of these systems
might be applied with advantage, under proper modifica-
tions, to the great body of our common schools ; and it
may be proper to devote a moment's attention to this sub-
ject. Suppose that in a common school the simultaneous
system were adopted to a greater extent than it ordinarily
is. This might be done in a variety of ways.
1. By making all the members of a class, during a part
of the recitation, read, spell, calculate, or answer together.
The danger of acquiring bad tones should, however, be
carefully guarded against ; and, with proper care, bad tones
acquired may be thus cured. In spelling, I have found it
easy to detect an error in one pupil speaking simultaneously
with an hundred and fifty others.
2. By furnishing all with slates or black-boards, and using
writing as auxiliary to other branches. A child with a
slate, sitting opposite copies of letters, words, &c., written
upon a wall, need never be idle, and will rapidly improve,
as experience shows. After a spelling or reading lesson,
it is very useful to require the pupils to write down the
whole or a part at their seats. Sometimes it has been
MANAGEMENT OF A COMMON SCHOOL. 213
Found no less so, to make them write in a book the words
which they have misspelt, mispronounced, defined incor-
rectly, and occasionally afterwards to refer to them. In
reciting almost any lesson advantageous use may be made
of black-boards or slates ; thus, all the class may be required
to write a word or sentence, to trace out the course of a
stream, the form of a country, or the relative position of a
city and a mountain. And the whole school may be some-
times exercised in a similar manner on a variety of subjects,
even including questions on the arts, manners, morals, re-
ligion, &,c.
3. Promiscuous questioning involves in no small degree
the principle of simultaneous instruction, as it keeps the
attention of all awake. Those who can answer a question
that has been missed in proceeding through the class in
order, may be made to signify it by raising the hand, and
from these the teacher can select one to answer it. Occa-
sional promiscuous questions on the elements uC different
branches taught, put to the whole school, will have excel-
lent effects on the older, as well as the younger scholars.
4. A few of the most trustworthy pupils may be usefully
employed, a part of the time, as assistants in teaching.
This cannot be well done, however, unless they are drilled
in their tasks, and made to understand what, when, and
where they are to perform. A boy or girl who has been
rewarded for good conduct and scholarship with the office
of assistant or monitor, on closing a recitation in any
branch, may hear an inferior class in the same with much
efficiency and mutual benefit. It is well for a monitor to
have a slate at hand, and silently mark down every viola-
tion of the rules, for the information of the teacher, being
allowed no power of discipline whatever. I have in my
mind several interesting children of eight, ten, and fourteen,
who have rendered very important services in this capacity,
and whose characters were rapidly improved at the same
time. I remember, also, the perfect order and active oc-
cupation I have witnessed in schools of an hundred and
fifty, and even double that number, during the temporary
absence of the teachers.
5. Regard to the physical comfort of children is highly
important. No school can be even orderly without it.
They should have their feet upon the floor, with backs to
214 MR D WIGHT'S LECTURE.
their benches, and desks of convenient height; and should
be made to rise and sit, walk or stand for a short time,
once in twenty minutes or half an hour, according to their
ages. Besides, they should have plenty of fresh air, and
that of as pleasant temperature as circumstances will
permit.
Several of the points above mentioned are not necessa-
rily connected with the mutual or simultaneous system of
instruction ; but have naturally been brought into view be-
cause they are generally associated with them. Not a few
of the methods recommended have also been practised by
some of those who hear me; and I am confident I may ex-
pect their concurrence in favor of such as they have fully
tried.
Now, will it not be easily perceived that the objections
commonly made against the systerrts in the abstract, must
properly lie only against their abuses ? Even if mutual and
simultaneous instruction were adopted in a district school,
in a limited degree, but in an appropriate form, would not
important good be done, under a master or mistress faith-
ful in guarding against abuses in a few of the niost impor-
tant points ? We are to compare results not with perfection,
but with the district school as it is in the vast majority of
cases; and if we still found some exertions unavailing,
some time unemployed, we might have great reason to
congratulate ourselves for a large measure of success ; for
the truth is, that of all systems, none can be charged with
a greater waste of time than that of the common schools in
the United States. It is necessarily a time-wasting system ;
and so extensively so, that the standards of study and
progress are lamentably low. Even the primary schools of
Boston pretend to teach nothing in three years except
spelling, reading, and a kind of introduction to the elements
of arithmetic. Such a state of things we must attribute to
public opinion, not to the disposition of teachers, or the in-
herent nature of common schools. If, therefore, we ascer-
tain any easy mode for tlie improvement of the schools, we
may calculate at least upon the concurrence of many of the
teachers, whose daily comfort, as well as personal interests,
naturally urge them to keep the best schools they can. In
attending to the simple principles which lie at the basis of
our enquiries, let us carefully allow each its proper relative
MANAGEMENT OF A COMMON SCHOOL. 215
importance, lest we incur the risk of sacrificing more than
we gain, by introducing changes under the name of im-
provements.
By what means, then, is it, that knowledge is acquired
by a child at school ? What are the secrets relating to this
subject? What principles are most to be regarded, and at
all hazards preserved, in every attempt to teach? Obser-
vation and reflection, the judgment, the memory, the sight,
the hearing, and the touch, all have their parts to perform :
and these are to be cultivated on certain principles, whose
efficiency is abundantly proved by experience.
Repetition, one of Jacotot's chief principles, if not capa-
ble of effecting all he supposes, is certainly capable of much.
So far as learning is dependant on the ear and the eye, so
far are we dependant on the correct repetition of sounds
and objects of sight. The mind makes real progress in the
use of its powers, only by the repeated exertion of them in
an appropriate manner, and under favorable circumstances.
So the frequent use of the hand is necessary in learning
to write ; and although every species of repetition is not
useful, some species are indispensable. A child may be
told the names of the letters but once a day for a year,
and yet although he have the credit of a regular attendant
at school the whole time, may have received no more in-
struction than he would have received in a month, if he
had gone over them with a teacher twelve times a day,
while disgust and weariness accompanying the long inter-
vals of his lessons, would throw the advantage on tlie side
of the month's instruction.
A teacher with thirty, forty, or fifty scholars, if aided by
one of the most capable of them, can afford to each indi-
vidual more repetitions of the kind, which are useful in in-
struction, than he can without such aid ; and if good sim-
ultaneous methods be practised at the same time, the
advantage may be multiplied many fold. One assistant,
and one better method may be safely tried at first, and new
ones gradually added as the teacher acquires confidence in
them and himself.
It would probably strike some persons as an extravagant
assertion, if they were told that the most humble district
school offers favorable opportunities for experiments on nil
the great principles of instruction and education ; and that
216 MR D WIGHT S LECTURE.
it is indeed a sphere in which methods founded upon them
may, under some modifications or other, be permanently
introduced. Perhaps it would appear no less incredible, if
asserted, that we may already find in them many traces of
those principles, and various features of those methods. It
is not, of course, mere innovation which is proposed, when
we suggest to the district teacher to try a method that may
bear a new name. It is often but a change of form, not a
new principle, which is oflTered to him. We but make a
proposition to try the more extensive application of some-
thing which he has already proved to be sound ; and we
may say, with perfect truth, it is in many instances a method
of the teacher's own invention, or a principle of his own
discovery, which we propose to him to extend or to modify.
For what teacher is there, who has not in his self-instructive
career, made discoveries in the great world of instruction ?
It matters not who has known or even practised them be-
fore: if he have never seen nor heard of them, he is entitled
to all the merit of a first, as he is an original discoverer.
His mind has had to pass through the same cautious, intel-
ligent and laborious process; and in the exercise of similar
independence, he has renounced former opinions and prac-
tises, for such as he has perceived to be better. It is partly
owing to the honest and well founded preference of prin-
ciples and methods thus established, that useful changes
are retarded ; for an inexpert or injudicious presentation is
sometimes made of improvements, which are ofi'ered as
entire novelties, when they are merely modifications of
something old. The proposition is, therefore, one to rev-
olutionize, when it should be only to amend. Persons who
have arrived at their knowledge in the manner alluded to,
have reason for retaining their opinions until led to re-
nounce, as they were led to adopt them ; for they have
studied in the school of Pestalozzi, they have been initiated
into them on the method of Jacotot. They have been, we
might more properly say, pursuing the course of nature ;
for it is the highest praise which any philosopher can
claim, to say that he teaches the principles of nature. Not
a few of our district teachers have done what we should be
happy to perceive and to acknowledge ; and we have,
therefore, n right to look upon them as ready to make
further progress. If informed of the nature, value and ap-
MANAGEMENT OF A COMMON SCHOOL 217
plication of better methods to which they are now strangers,
they must doubtless be ready to adopt them. And how
important it is for the good of the country, that they should
possess such information ! Our older teachers would then
lead the way in solid improvement, and the younger teachers
and the public would derive the full benefit of their intel-
ligence and their well-earned influence. To this intelli-
gence, to this influence, the country now looks, with a
solemnity impressed by a state of things which we once
thought impossible, but at whose auguries every good man
trembles. With throbbing heart, every friend of the coun-
try is ready to take the school-master by the hand, and say.
Can you do nothing more for America?
This anxious appeal need not, should not, be made in
vain. There are other points, however, than those which
have been mentioned, to which the teacher must direct
his attention, before he can qualify himself to do that which
may be expected from him. In regard to government,
there has been much debating of principles, and yet there
is now extensively an agreement among those who have
viewed the subject with deliberation. The law offeree and
the law of love have been often presented in contrast, both
in theory and in practice. It would seem to be the general
conviction that corporal punishments ought not to be resort-
ed to in school except in extreme cases. Some oppose them
altogether, considering the rod, as restricted by the wise
man, to the hand of the parent. We may at least say with
safety, that it should never be used without the exercise of
such feelings as ought to prevail in a parent's breast.
The French schoolmasters are forbidden, by the authority
of the government, to inflict any corporal punishment what-
ever; and their manuals of instruction caution the monitors
against ever touching a child while directing him in his
studies. The result of an experiment on so large a scale,
to determine whether moral means alone are sufficient for
the discipline of public schools of all classes, will be looked
for with interest ; for it is certain that so far as they can be
used with safety, they lead to various and important bene-
fits. We might, indeed, wish to see the trial generally
made in our own country ; for new and powerful motives
must be at once called into use, wherever force is banished
from a school. Where violence is held up as the last re-
28
218 MR D WIGHT'S LECTURE.
sort, it is regarded as a remedy of superior efficacy ; and,
as its operation is usually more speedy than that of moral
means, the teacher is templed to use it not only with
stronger faith, but with greater frequency. The pupil at
the same time, is in danger of depending too little on his
own power of self-government, being taught that in the
most difficult cases, the teacher is to reduce him to obedi-
ence and duty. When corporal punishments, however,
are banished, the teacher would find himself thrown upon
his own resources to devise the most appropriate moral
means of government ; while the pupil would see it prac-
tically proclaimed, that such means are the most powerful,
the best, and quite sufficient for any emergency.
One of the most useful habits which a teacher can form,
perhaps is, that of recalling the feelings and thoughts of
childhood, and participating in those of his pupils. There
was a time when we belonged to the school-going crew,
when we wore books, and had school-mates, school-mis-
tresses and masters. What sort of beings were we then ?
Is it true that we possessed faculties and perceptions so
different from those we now exercise ? Were the motives
that influenced us, the operations of our minds quite the
opposite of the present? Ah, no. We were sensible to
kindness, we had hearts to love those who treated us with
affection ; and fear and violence had as little tendency to
excite us to study as now. Our intellects were as actively
abroad in search of knowledge ; our attention was as easily
absorbed by appropriate subjects appropriately presented ;
our memory was at least as easily impressed ; and who will
doubt its powers of retention? Let us sometimes recur to
our school-days, and see whether the same organs of sense
were not then fitted as they now are for the use of the
mind ; and whether the mysterious soul within, of which
we still know so little, was not possessed of the same facul-
ties as now. Should we not feel the same reluctance if
constrained as we then were ; should we not rebel against
the unnatural treatment we may sometimes have received
from ignorant masters ; and is not such treatment unsuited
to the nature of children as well as of men ?
Let one who does not easily recal the feelings of child-
hood, on entering the room where he teaches the young,
sometimes ask himself how he would feel if turned into an
MANAGEMENT OF A COMMON SCHOOL. 219
apartment, planned and furnished in a manner in propor-
tion to his own size, as his own is in relation to that of his
pupils. Let him imagine that books in an unknown
tongue, are before him, and orders given in terms which he
often but imperfectly comprehends, while his eye in vain
seeks for a single object of interest to fix upon, and his
weary limbs are denied the proper changes of position dur-
ing sessions of six or eight hours — a period of confinement
not greater for an adult, than half that time for a child.
Let him fancy a giant enthroned supreme above a commu-
nity of beings like himself, fickle in disposition, as severe
in his requisitions and his punishments, as mistaken in his
views of moral character and intellectual powers ; together
with prevailing sentiments in society, which sanction a sys-
tem of treatment inappropriate to his nature, and calculated
to disgust him with learning. The teacher may thus form
an idea of the manner in which too many children are situ-
ated in school, and the feelings which are excited in too many
youthful breasts, at the very moment when we are comfort-
able and contented, because we are more at liberty. Or
let him for once attempt to do some part of the duty which
he daily requires of his pupils ; and he will learn how to
account for, and to prevent, many of the symptoms of
restlessness or backwardness which he may be tempted to
treat so harshly in them. Try, at least, for one day, to sit
as long as you require them to sit, and in similar postures,
to keep your eyes upon objects which you do not under-
stand, or the use of which you cannot imagine. The truth
is, that if teachers would observe the laws of nature in
treating their pupils, the pupils would willingly obey most
of the rules of the school. After all, a teacher can never
excel in his profession without loving his pupils. A real
and rational affection for them, will lead him to many im-
portant discoveries and inventions, and give him much of
that intuitive knowledge and skill, that abundant and varied
expedient, which mark the accomplished instructor. As
in the parent and the patriot, as in the friend of mankind
and the christian, the way of duty is best illuminated by
the fire of the heart ; and sometimes, in difficult emergen-
cies, as well as in cases requiring great discrimination, when
learning and precedent fail, in the words of the old song:
" Love will find out the way."
220 MR DWIGHTS LECTURE.
One of the great features of the French system, the
teacher should ever keep distinctly before him : — the ad-
vantage and the duty of a progressive and continued course
of selt-improvement. The French minister of instruction,
in recommending the publication of periodicals for the use
of school-masters, remarked, that even educated teachers,
withdrawn into their retired spheres of operation, were apt
to remain stationary in knowledge, amidst the depressing
influences of society around them, and to let their methods
degenerate into a dull routine.
The teacher should rest satisfied with nothing short of
a perfect comprehension of the essential elements of the
branches which he teaches, and a perfect communication of
all that he pretends to teach. There is but one way in
which a human mind can proceed in the acquisition of
knowledge ; and that is, by the intelligent use of its own
powers, and with a thorough acquaintance with the pre-
ceding steps. There is but one kind of stimulus by which
the miiid should be incited to study : and that is furnished
by the purest and best motives. The teacher must not
expect to do the work of learning for the pupils ; his ut-
most is done when he has placed within their reach the
truths he would have them learn in their natural order, and
presented them the proper motives to labor to acquire
them.
And one important distinction, often overlooked, is this :
that rules and processes are generally mere time-saving, or
labor-saving resorts. In arithmetic, for example, how im-
portant is it to perceive that two is but a shorter name for
one and one, ten for Jive and Jive, or for one, ten times re-
peated. How effectually may a pupil be taught the worth
of rules by being allowed to proceed at first without them ;
to add or subtract without carrying, setting down the sum
or remainder of each column at full, and finding out the
result as he can. In Geography, he may be taught the
convenience of generalization and of new terms, by being
first allowed to use his own language in describing the
boundaries and characteristics of some piece of ground
with which he is familiar.
The teacher must banish from his mind and that of his
pupil, the idea that classification is knowledge. A just
perception of its nature and use, will prevent many difficul-
MANAGEMENT OF A COMMON SCHOOL. 221
ties, particularly the fatal mistake of confounding ideas
with the words which express them, a mistake still common,
in spite of all that parrots do to expose its absurdity.
Another important point is, that a teacher should be
aware of the very complex nature of some of the processes
to be passed through by a learner. A young child may be
able to count ten marks or ten apples, and yet be far Irom
understanding the principle which the teacher understands
as involved in the operation. It appears to us perfectly
obvious, and yet how difficult it is to explain to one who
does not ! An apple is called one, and the next, two.
Why? Whence has the second this new name? For
words, when applied to visible objects, are to be presumed
to be names of them or of some of their apparent qualities,
until the contrary is shown. If the child learns that the
words one and two are numbers, he is usually left to do it
by some indirect inference. A child may know all the
letters of the alphabet, and be able to spell a word, and
yet have no idea that the letters when written are to be
confined to any particular order. A child of four years,
who could form letters on a slate, and spell its own name,
once showed very clearly that in respect to the fashions of
writings, it had not yet discovered whether it had been
born in China, where they write from top to bottoin of the
page ; in Arabia, where they write from right to left ; or in
the early ages, when they wrote from right to left and left
to right alternately, like oxen ploughing a field. In many
steps, apparently as simple and truly as complicated as
these, the child needs explanation, to withhold which, is to
refuse straw while you require bricks ; and blame, frowns,
or blows, will not make him surmount the obstacle. The
teacher who faithfully studies the minds of his children and
his own, will be able to open to them a pleasing and an
improving passage through the path of learning, which, but
for his care, will be beset with many discouragements.
And here how important appears the personal character
of an instructor ! How reasonably do the Prussians re-
quire their teachers to pursue self-improvement as a busi-
ness for life! How happy will it be for America, when
our teachers shall regard this duty in its full importance !
Though we are not yet supplied with seminaries for their
instruction, we have some advantages in the peculiar na-
222 MR DWIGHT'S LECTURE.
ture of society among us which Prussia does not offer, for
their preparation, in Hie ; and here also we find circum-
stances very favorable to their progressive improvement,
among our domestic and social scenes. The daily cultiva-
tion of personal character, therefore, should always appear
as an imperative duty to the school-master and mistress ;
and if unaffected piety lay the foundation, what results may
nut be anticipated ?
Methods of instruction^ which form so important a part
of the management of a common school, we may properly
regard with more particular attention after the remarks
which have already been made. Much of the art
of reading and spelling depend upon habits of sight
and hearing formed by frequent repetitions of forms and
sounds. During the time devoted to these branches,
therefore, the organs appropriate should be actively exer-
cised ; for they have more to do with the pupil's progress
than is generally supposed. Both the sight and sound of
the letters composing a word need to be frequently repeated,
to make the necessary impression on the mind of the
learner ; and hence has probably arisen the preference
given in some of our western regions to what are called
" Loud schools " in which the scholars study viva voce.
The practice might be useful were it not attended with a
confusion which more than counterbalances the benefit.
Spelling should sometimes be performed simultaneous,
and sometimes somewhat rapidly ; as a rapid utterance
usually produces sounds more nearly resembling the words
which they form.
I Reading, it is now pretty extensively admitted, should
(be taught before spelling, or rather in company with it.
(That is, a child should be taught to read first a (ew simple
sentences, composed of fa?niliar words so arranged and
repeated that he should find one or more known words in
each successive sentence. The spelling of these words
should t..en commence, and reading and spelling afterwards
proceed together. It proves an experiment, that a child
can discriminate between two words as easily as between
two letters. Now the difficulty of exciting interest, and
therefore attention also, is the great obstacle to improve-
ment by the common method ; but this obstacle is removed
in a great degree, when intelligible words and sentences
MANAGEMENT OF A COMMON SCHOOL. 223
are presented ; for the child perceives his own progress,
and the utihty of his exertions. And why is it more un-
reasonable to teach a word before teaching the letters
which compose it, any more than to name a tree before
counting its leaves or branches ? And this principle being
once admitted, is capable of various applications, particu-
larly in simultaneous instruction. Point out to a class of
beginners, a word on a page or card, and call upon all to
show where it is repeated. The proof of their accuracy is
always to be found by comparing the orthography ; and in
this also all the class may be active. The forms and names
of letters may at first be learnt out of order ; a short time
will then sufBce to teach the alphabet. It should be a
daily exercise for children at their seats, to write on slates,
from memory or otherwise, the words or sentences they
have last been taught. Another useful exercise for begin-
ners, is, to find on a page or card given letters or words,
so as to be able to point them all out at recitation. The
close attention to their forms, the constant comparison of
things which they are able to compare, are useful exercises
for the mind, and occupations favorable to the order of the
school.
Writing has proved, in many instances, a powerful aid to
learning letters, figures, spelling, reading, defining and com-
position, as well as arithmetic, gtograpfiy, grammar, &c. In
some schools it is the first branch to which the child is intro-
duced. Children of five, and even three years of age, or less,
will often hold a pencil well, and take pleasure in its use.
They may be easily kept employed with slates or black
boards, a considerable part of the day ; an important de-
sideratum with district teachers, who are liable to be
entrusted with such children as are in the way at home.
Large letters printed on cards, or painted upon the walls,
afford convenient copies for them ; and the art of writing
has often been thus silently acquired ; for the case offers
no obstacle to an unassisted learner ; and children will do
anything that is possible when properly encouraged.
Pens should not be placed in the hands of children at
first, but penci's, crayons or chalk. These last will neither
blot nor spread, nor hold ink, nor spatter, nor draw hairs
after them to mar the writer's work, nor vary in stiffness,
nor split crooked, nor from end to end. Besides, they will
224 MR DWIGHT'S LECTURE.
make no indelible record of defects and failures. They
will not, in short, expose the inexperienced writer to a
complication of unnecessary discouragements. An experi-
enced instructor has advised school-masters to attend
writing schools themselves, that they might learn how to
make allowances for the unintentional errors of their own
pupils.
in writing, uniformity embraces many excellencies, and
the want of it is ruinous. Too little stress is laid on this
quality. Heights, distances, sizes, slopes, curves, body
strokes and hair strokes, in similar letters must be alike.
Now, although certain delects in single strokes may be
best cured by writing slowly, uniformity is sometimes best
attained by rather quickened motion. There appears to
be something like a pendulum motion in the fingers, hand,
or arm, when the execution is best; and to write very
slowly seems sometimes to embarrass the muscles, and
incapacitate them for their perfect operation. A young
child, or an untaught adult will sometimes make straight
and curved lines with great uniformity and even beauty, if
allowed to move the hand freely and rapidly, as with chalk
upon a smooth surface ; when, if he should attempt to do
the same very slowly, his lines would be stiff and awkward.
If children write on slates daily, and only occasionally upon
paper, they keep their books in much better condition.
Economy also recommends this practice.
In the study of English Grammar, the practice of ap-
plying the rules to familiar spoken language is of much
greater practical use, than that of parsing in books, though
the latter should by no means be omitted. The rules
should never be forgotten, but used as the guides of speech
and writing through life. This, however, they never will
be, unless the habit is formed at school. Let children,
therefore, be required daily to point out the different parts
of speech in sentences of their own conversation — the
more familiar they are the better for beginners — and to
apply syntax to their own words, and they will become
practical grammarians. In recitations from the grammar,
they should be often required to depart from the set forms
of the book ; as, instead of conjugating a verb through all
its variations, sometimes by naming the first persons sin-
gular of all moods and tenses, or the second or third
MANAGEMENT OF A COMMON SCHOOL 225
persons plural ; sometimes by giving the present or imper-
fect tenses of all the moods ; sometimes by going over
some of these in a reversed order ; sometimes by crossing
the beaten track of the grammar in respect to pronouns,
and other parts of speech. In short, the teacher should
always have before his eyes the dangers of falling into a
mere routine.
The teacher should never be content to be regarded as
indifferent to the wonders of nature and art, by w^hich he
will find himself and his pupils in some degree surrounded,
even in the most remote and solitary districts in our land.
The nature and powers of the human frame, the produc-
tions of nature, the various instincts and uses of domestic
animals, tiie curious instruments and valuable results of
the arts of life, the operations of government, the nature,
source and obligations of law, both human and divine, are
subjects, concerning which, the minds of his pupils will be
exercised, and of which they will necessarily gather enough
knowledge by observation, to be prepared to receive more
by instruction. And it is, chiefly, because the branches
of school learning have intimate relations with all these,
and the pupils are to be in some measure dependant upon
them all throughout life for their comfort, and even their
existence, that the school is worth attending, and that his
office is truly dignified and interesting beyond those of
most other men. Concerning all these things he must, in
a sense, inevitably teach something. If he checks his pu-
pils in the inquiries on any of them, he virtually teaches
that these are not worthy of their attention, or that they
are entirely beyond their comprehension ; either of which
would be untrue. He must too highly appreciate them all,
and know too much of them, to be willing to be totally
silent concerning any. Five minutes in a day, or even in a
week, devoted to familiarly questioning a class or the whole
school on such topics, will materially promote general
interest and order, and prove useful to every mind.
One of the most effectual means for the useful occupation
of that time now wasted in school, is an occasional resort
to new forms and topics of instruction. The measure of a
lecture to almost any audience, is about an hour ; and, in
arranging the exercises of a grave assemblage of men or
women, it is thought indispensable, frequently, to change
29
226 MR DWIGHT'S LECTURE.
forms and subjects. Living in a world where we may seek
in vain for two trees, or leaves, or grains of sand exactly
alike, variety may be reasonably regarded as something ap-
propriate to our nature. The frame of a child, too long
unsupported by leaning, or often bent in writing, becomes
distorted ; the various affections as well as the various pow-
ers of the mind, need alternate exercise to preserve a healthy
state, as do the muscles of the body ; and it is as unreason-
ble to expect to train the mind well by confining it too long
to one branch of study, as it is to form habits of submission
and order, by keeping the body in a posture for which
nature never designed it, or for a longer period than she
has designed.
Vocal Music is one of the most important secondary
branches of instruction for a common school, the elements
being taught in a little time by pursuing a good method,
the practice being highly agreeable to children, and pro-
ductive of marked moral benefit through life. This and
other subjects, may be introduced in modes innumerable.
Even a single exercise of five minutes, on any one of these
subjects, given after the opening of the school, will be found
to promote punctuality ; and a resort to the plan under
almost any modification, would be favorable to regular
attendance. It is needless to enlarge here on the impor-
tance of these two results, which are now so seldom
deemed attainable.
In conducting both regular and occasional exercises, it is
to be borne in mind, that the former must always maintain
their proper place and importance, without being encroached
upon ; and that the great leading principles of instruction
are to be regarded in both. What the child knows on any
subject it is well distinctly to credit him with ; for truths
are not collected without commendable labor, and never
will be pursued without encouragement; and some valua-
ble truths are in the possession of every child, which he has
himself obtained.
But there is one subject still, on which there is more
necessity for decision, clear views, prompt and thorough
reformation. It is Religious Instruction, To a great ex-
tent, religion has been, for years, excluded from our common
schools ; and to this fact we must attribute many of their
defects ; for without it, there can be no legitimate motives
to study, no proper sanction to discipline or authority.
MANAGEMENT OF A COMMON SCHOOL. 227
Many, it is probable, advocate the exclusion of religious
instruction, under every form, from schools, under a loose
idea that they are exercising liberality, in thus yielding to
the opinions of the few who are decidedly opposed to it ;
but real liberality does not throw away for nothing things
of essential value. The principles of our institutions are
derived from the New Testament ; and a person unac-
quainted with the latter, can neither enjoy, nor understand
the former, nor be depended upon to sustain them. Who-
ever would deny to our children thorough Christian educa-
tion, would wish to deprive them of their birthright.
There are two classes of persons who object to religious
instruction in our common schools : — 1st. Those who
are afraid of sectarian influences ; and 2d. Those who
dislike religion. We may ask one of the former class, do
you prefer no religion to that of any of the principal sects
amongst us ? If so, you may be ranked among those of
the second class. If you teach your children as you ought
at home, you need not much apprehend any evil effects
from a pious schoolmaster of another sect, in matters of
secondary importance. But common school instruction,
need not, and should not assume the color of any sect. It
may and should extend only to the great principles of
Christian doctrine and duty. These should be inculcated
daily and hourly, by precept, but still more pointedly and
frequently by example, as the most important branch, nay,
as the foundation of education.
To the second class of opposers, I would make the same
reply as to the man who, through ignorance, would object
to instruction in reading, or to a diseased man, who would
deny to children needful food, air and exercise. The opin-
ion of an irreligious man is no more to be followed to the
exclusion of religious instruction from schools, than that of
a monarchist, in keeping the young in ignorance of the
Declaration of Independence, or that of a drunkard in
keeping brandy from the water cup.
How preposterous would it appear, if a school committee
should even employ a drunkard for a teacher, out of a spirit
of liberality to drunken parents, and yield to the specious
arguments which the latter might urge, that the example
of drinking pure water is opposed to their consciences as
well as their practice! What a figure would such a com-
mittee make at self-justification, if they should say — chil-
228 MR DWIGHTS LECTURE.
dren must be taught temperance at home ; it is an unwar-
rantable interference with freedom, to introduce such a
subject into schools, where persons of all classes send their
children. What propriety is there, on the same principle,
in pursuing any but a negative course, in respect to pro-
fanity, gross language, and manners of any kind ? For
with equal force and truth, some parents might insist that
their own peculiar views would be opposed, and the exam-
ple they set their children counteracted. Nay, if this prin-
ciple, so preposterous, yet seriously regarded by so many
influential persons, were carried out ; what might our
schools become?
The truth is, our schools can never prosper, no school
can be what it ought to be, while the Christian religion, in
its great and fundamental principles, is not faithfully taught.
Whoever has properly considered the human mind, and
known anything of the nature of Christianity, must perceive
this truth, and should embrace and act upon it. Commit-
tee-men should stand up like Christians, and at once return
to their senses on this subject. They should look through
the shallow disguises under which evil designs may be
sometimes shrouded from view, and retrace the dangerous
steps which have been taken. Teachers should understand
each other on this essential point, and proceed at once with
an independence becoming their dignified profession, by
introducing into their schools daily instruction in the divine
wisdom of Christianity. The teachers of almost every
town, county and even State in the Union, have it fully in
their power to effect an immediate revolution in this respect
within their own districts ; and, in most instances, one
which would probably be permanent. They can influence
and restore public opinion, by their arguments and their
example ; and they are bound to do it, out of the plainest
regard to consistency ; for without reference to duty towards
God, their other instructions must be rendered in a great
measure unavailing, and may prove the cause of great pos-
itive evil. Do they not perceive that they may be placing
weapons in hands prepared to turn them against the coun-
try ? What is learning worth, without a disposition to
employ it well?
There may long be different opinions on this subject ;
but let even a few teachers, or the influential men in any
region or district, use their senses and obey their con-
I
MANAGEMENT OF A COMMON SCHOOL. 229
sciences, and they may speedily enjoy benefits which others
may well envy, when the rising generation shall display
characters formed in Christian schools, sustaining and
adorning Christian institutions. On the contrary, to deny
a child instruction of this kind, is to take from him that
without which man is not worth educating; and whoever
persists in the experiment, does it at his own peril and that
of the country.
We may imagine a school in which some of the above-
mentioned principles are applied. The teacher and three
or four of the best behaved children, appointed as monitors
or assistants, are present before the hour. A boy is sta-
tioned at the outer door with a slate, to note down any
irregularity, to be reported to the master, and to prevent
the entry of any during worship. The scriptures are read
— the teacher refers to existing circumstances to apply and
enforce their injunctions, and to the maps for illustrations;
maps and apparatus being always hung in view. A short
but fervent prayer succeeds, the scholars sitting or kneel-
ing, and watched, if necessary, by a monitor. An exercise
in singing or in some practical subject, interesting to all,
and partaken of by all, may then occupy five minutes.
An inferior class in reading or spelling, arithmetic,
grammar, or geography, may then be conducted by a mon-
itor, or two or three by several, while the teacher attends
to such as he selects for his own instruction at that time.
The room being lined with black-boards, all the members
of a class in several branches, should be frequently called
on to perform some process, to exhibit their meaning by
writing, drawing diagrams, tracing coasts, rivers, &c., with
chalk. This, when required promiscuously, and still more
when simultaneously, with spirit and promptitude, will an-
imate far beyond any common process. Each scholar
should be allowed to stand and sit and lean alternately,
several times every half day ; and in every change of place
and attitude, manly, courteous and healthful postures and
movements should be insisted on. In this, the teacher
should study to be a living model, as well as in general
interest in the school, manner of dress, speaking, and habits
of Christian dignity and humility, self-command, cheerful-
ness and friendliness, as well as of punctuality.
The motives offered should be of the best kind. Re-
wards, commonly so called, would not be needed. Dis-
230 MR DWIGHT'S LECTURE.
tinctions, of whatever description, should be conferred for
real, and not for comparative merit; and these should be
few, simple and unexceptionable. The confidence oi the
master, and the respect of the scholars should elect the
monitors ; and emulation, as it is commonly considered,
should not be admitted within doors. "You have done
right," as Fellenberg declares, is the highest commenda-
tion that can be safely bestowed on any child.
The teacher should keep his own list of attendance, and
conduct, and performance in the various classes, but call
on each pupil, before the close of the school, to render his
own account of himself. This establishes self-guardianship
and responsibility. A weekly or monthly account should
be sent to the parent. Corporal punishment should not be
used ; or, if used, not depended upon imphcitly. They
should by no means be resorted to in presence of the school :
children sometimes suffer cruelly from witnessing them,
without deserving to suffer. It is generally enough for
others to witness the effects of punishments, without the
pain or distraction of seeing the infliction.
Every scholar should be constantly and usefully occupied,
and as far as possible, agreeably. To this end, the teacher
should never forget that each of his pupils has a human
body, as well as an intellect and affections ; and that, as
neither can be properly trained independently of the rest,
he is not qualified to practise his profession without some
knowledge of them all, and the habit of regarding them in
practice. Is a child restless ? it may be owing to a seat too
high, too narrow, too wide, too distant from the desk, or too
near it ; or to his having nothing to lean against, or to want
of standing or walking. Or he may be too warm, or too
cold, in pain or diseased ; the light may be too strong, or
ill-directed. The cause may be the want of some expla-
nation in his studies, or something that has occurred before,
at home or elsewhere. The teacher should have intelligence
and regard enough for him to use reasonable deliberation
in judging in such cases, and in making due allowances.
He should also be so determined and so just as not to over-
look vicious behaviour, and above all should never be
chargeable with partiality.
Active and constant occupation will prevent, in a great
degree, the principal objection against common schools :
viz. their tendency to deteriorate the habits of children
MANAGEMENT OF A COMMON SCHOOL. 231
well educated at home. Children at school should be too
busy to set or copy bad examples. Let the teacher over-
see or participate in their sports when out to play, and
another great source of evil communication will be cut oft',
One thing more : dismiss them by groups, or at least send
the bad ones home alone, and the arrangements to guard
against mutual contamination, will be nearly complete.
The French schoolmasters are directed by their manual to
dismiss their pupils by groups, formed with regard to the
directions in which they are to go, each under the charge
of a monitor, who has injunctions to report any who may
leave him before reaching the proper place. In the United
States it is an object of high importance to render our com-
mon schools fit for the best children. Hence it is incum-
bent on the teacher to place every child of gross or vicious
habits under a kind of quarantine. He should have every
opportunity to improve, but no facilities for diffusing his
habits.
Children usually require exercise for the limbs and the
voice on dismission from school, because they have been
debarred from it ; and to run and vociferate is to a great
extent demanded by nature. It is therefore well, some-
times, to make them stand, and perhaps exercise their arms,
march and sing, at the close of school hours, to remove, in
some measure, the feelings which often render them dis-
orderly in the streets.
To what new purposes common schools may become
available, to what further ends they may be rendered sub-
servient, we have yet to see. We know that the benefits
they have produced, various and great as they are, when
contrasted with the results of having none, are still few and
small, compared with what we have a right to expect from
such institutions. Like some of the useful arts, in the con-
dition in which they existed among us a few years ago,
although they aflTord to thousands what is indispensable to
them as members of American society, their operation goes
on at an immense loss of time, labor and money, through
defects in the manner of conducting them. Whether we
endeavor to estimate by observation the idle time spent in
our common schools, or infer it from the rapid detrition of
books worn by restless fingers ; or whether we note the
amount of intellectual labor performed by infantile and juve-
232 MR DWIGHTS LECTURE.
nile minds when allowed desired opportunities to act intelli-
gently ; or whether we consider the progress made under
more favorable circumstances ; we shall find reason to ex-
pect greater results from common schools than we have
ever yet witnessed. If things proceed as they now do, we
have nothing to look for but a deluge of ignorance, vice
and their consequences upon the country. If we desire a
brighter prospect than we have now before us, we must
look to the prompt improvement of the district schools, as
an indispensable measure.
The evils we seriously anticipate cannot be avoided
without the aid of common schools, under a highly improved
system. That they are capable of improvement, let us be-
lieve, and let us preach. It is an encouraging doctrine,
and it is a true one.
Let us improve the superintendence and the manage-
ment of all which may be within our reach. Much can be
done by the assembly I have the pleasure of addressing.
What may not be done by three or four hundred intelligent
teachers of both sexes ? Much can be done, indeed, by
each ; for every one of you may do what you will in a
sphere of real importance. Every schoolmaster and school-
mistress in the Union may reflect, however humble or
secluded be his station, that he has the opportunity of rais-
ing his school to an eminence. He may do his part towards
elevating the standard of education, and sound a trumpet to
the higher institutions to elevate theirs. He may reflect,
as he enters the door of his school house, whether it be in
the populous village or on the lonely prairie ; whether on
the bleak hill-side, or under the shade of the grove ; whether
pitched on a mountain, or j-prinkled by the surges of the
ocean, that its naked walls may be decorated with simple
ornaments, attractive to the eye, favorable to taste, and in-
structive to the mind ; the ariangements may be such as
to secure healthful postures and exercise, thorough instruc-
tion and necessary variety, well attempered light, and the
purest air that heaven affords. It may be made the abode
of harmony, happiness and improvement. The best of
friendships may be formed there; and the path which con-
ducts to it, however stony or winding, may be associated
in many a useful mind with recollections of childhood,
and the loftiest conceptions of science of man and his
Creator.
LECTURE XI.
MORAL AND SPIRITUAL CULTURE
EARLY EDUCATION
BY R. C. WATERSTON.
30
I
MORAL AND SPIRITUAL CULTURE.
The end of learning is to know God, and out of that knowledge to love him,
and to imitate him, as we may the nearest, by possessing ourselves of true
virtue. — Milton.
Whatever turns the soul inward upon itself, tends to concentrate its forces,
and fit it for higher and stronger flights of science. — Burke.
We have met to consider the importance of giving a
right moral direction in the early stages of education, or, in
other vi'ords, the value of moral and spiritual culture.
In considering this subject we should carefully avoid
everything like exaggeration, and everything of a mere the-
oretical character. We should aim alone at the true and the
practical. We should look at things as they are, and sug-
gest only that which reason and reflection sanction as good.
Before we enter upon this subject, let us inquire what is
the object aimed at in the present mode of education ? It
is to teach that which will afterwards aid in acquiring a
livelihood. Reading, writing, geography and arithmetic,
are universally taught, because they will be needed in daily
business. This is well. They are of undoubted utility.
No one would wish them neglected. And, in following
out the topic we have met to consider, nothing shall be
alluded to, which would interfere with any of these branches.
As far as they go they are good, yet where they are all
taught, and taught alone, the most important will be want-
ing. The understanding will be strengthened to the ne-
glect of the affections. The head will be cared for more
than the heart. And thus while there is increase of know-
ledge, there will be a lack of true wisdom. If there is this
deficiency in our present mode of instruction, then we
must have something more. We must attend to moral and
spiritual culture.
236 MR WATERSTON'S LECTURE.
What is true education ? It is that which instructs the
mind and strengthens the intellect, and it is also that
which forms the character, and quickens virtue. It
begins at the centre and goes outward. While it en-
riches the understanding, it enlightens the will ; and in
connexion with other things, strengthens the ideas of right
and wrong. It always recognizes in the child, a being
whose destiny reaches through future ages, and in whose
infant spirit are wrapt up, germs of inconceivable power.
That which falls short of this, cannot be true education.
Arithmetic, geography and grammar are good, and should
always be taught, but there is a want of the soul which
they cannot satisfy, and which should be cared for in our
day schools. The tree of knowledge is not the tree of
life ; and that which will be positively useful, is not business
and labor alone, but that which in business and labor, gives
strength to overcome temptation, and makes the spirit
alive to that great inward process which is ever going on
amid all the duties of life.
Ought not our schools, then, to watch over the moral
nature ? Should they not consider the discipline of mind,
as more important than the acquisition of knowledge ? While
they are teaching to read, should they not teach to think ?
While they are teaching to calculate, should they not teach
to reflect ? While they are teaching that which may aid in
gaining wealth, should they not also teach that which is
above wealth, and which may make the soul eternally happy ?
Should they not have reference to the real nature of the
child, and the great purposes of God ?
To give a right moral direction to the minds of children,
we must have true Christian morality taught in our schools.
The morality of the heart. The morality which springs
from a consciousness of duty, a sense of right. We mean
that we would not only have the young taught to appear
good, but also to be good. That we would not only have
them see virtue, but possess it. We would cultivate those
higher capacities which God has implanted in every mind,
and present those unchanging principles which are the only
source of true well-being.
If such an end were kept in view throughout our schools,
it would be an unspeakable good.
MORAL AND SPIRITUAL CULTURP:. 237
Let us then consider some of the objections that might
be made.
1. Some may say that the old plans are good, why
make a change ?
Granting they are good ; it is certainly no reason why they
should never grow better. New light may break in ; wiser
plans may be thought of; and while we should guard
against needless innovations, we should ever be anxious to
improve. It was the glory of Kepler and Copernicus to
say to their successors — " Leave us and go on."
2. Some may say, that by frequent reference to moral
subjects, the minds of the young will grow satiated. The
work will be overdone, and bad effects fellow.
This would depend upon circumstances. If the teacher
had little sincerity, and went to his work as a task, this
would, perhaps be the case, but none will probably say that
a child would grow weary of such truth if it were properly
presented, for its natural tendency is to create a desire
for more.
3. But would it not interfere with the child's freedom
of mind ?
Not necessarily, for every child should be left at liberty
to use his own reason, and express his own thoughts. And
while the freedom of mind should be held sacred, it should
also be remembered, that we are not, on this account, to keep
away the opinion of all other minds. And if we would ex-
clude moral culture from our schools, because of the free-
dom of mind, carrying out the same principles into other
spheres would lead us to strange extremities.
4. But it may be said that a child is too young to care
for such things, and that his mind is not yet matured
enough to be benefitted by them.
We believe that anyone who loves children, and has
watched over the character of their minds, will feel that
this is a false idea. There is no time in life when truths, if
presented, make such deep and lasting impressions. The
mind of a child is not empty. It is not blank paper. It has
life and power. It is full of the seeds of things. The work of
the teacher is not to pour in, but to draw out. 'I'he capacity
is there. The teacher is to awaken it. The moral and the
spiritual already exist within the child's mind, aS the flower
238 MR VVATERSTONS LECTURE.
exists in the bud, and education is as the sun, and the air and
the dew to call forth its beauty and fruitfulness. If this is
allowed to be true, the importance of moral and spiritual
culture must be seen and felt.
5. Still some may hesitate, and say that the morality
taught at home is sufficient, and that it is thus needless to
introduce it into (he schools.
With regard to this, it should be remembered that there
are vast numbers of children whose parents pay no atten-
tion whatever to their moral and spiritual culture. Many
whose parents are absolutely vicious, many who are indif-
ferent, and many more who feel themselves to be almost
wholly unfitted for the work. Our primary, grammar and
district schools are open to all, and from the multitude who
go to them, who of us does not feel that the spiritual wants
of many, are (in their homes) entirely neglected ? Indeed
there is reason to fear that even religious parents do not
always take proper pains to strengthen inward principles.
6. Yet some may again say — there are Sunday schools,
and these will surely answer.
What I are one or two hours a week a just proportion
for instruction in Christian morals ? It is true that the
Sunday schools are a great good ; but to those children
who are neglected at home, they can do, comparatively
speaking, but little. Any candid mind will see at once
that two or three hours in the week is far too little to
give to this great work. And though we would not
wish that the day schools should be like Sunday schools,
yet we would have them far more spiritual than they now
are. We would have them more philosophically adapted
to the higher wants of the human mind.
7. Another question naturally arises — Would not this
plan interfere with private religious opinion ?
There would, no doubt, be danger of this, if an indiscreet
teacher attempted the work. Though perhaps, on the
whole, even with such a teacher, there would be more good
done than if the subject of morals were entirely neglected.
But there could hardly be an individual worthy of the high
office of teacher who might not speak of morality without
reference to party opinion. There are great spiritual truths
which are one and the same among all Christians, and a
teacher would be little fitted for his vocation, if his heart
MORAL AND SPIRITUAL CULTURE. 239
were not alive to this. The principles of christian morality
are universal. The opinions of men may and do vary, but
all devout Christians cherish alike the same Christian vir-
tues. All believe in the existence of God ; His omnipo-
tence, omnipresence and infinite love ; in the revelation
of truth by His Son ; its greatness, its necessity, its incal-
culable worth. In the deformity and loathsomeness of
vice, in the beauty and soul-enkindling power of virtue.
In the importance of Faith, and Justice and Benevolence.
In the duty of constantly living as under the eye of God, and
preparing for the great Future.
Revelation on these points is distinct, and it is these
general, and universal, and essential principles, believed in
alike by all, that we would have taught in our schools. It
is these we would have referred to, and explained, and
acted upon.
Having considered some of the reasons which might be
offered against teaching morals in our schools, let us now
look at some of the reasons for it : —
J . The child's very nature seems to require it. The
mind of a child is inquisitive. It seeks always for a why
and a wherefore. And, though it may be said, that some
other place is better fitted to supply this want, yet it seems
to me, that even though the want is, in part, supplied else-
where, yet when the child is in the school five or six hours
every day, it is proper to attend to it there also. The
child has a moral and spiritual nature, and this in itself is a
strong argument for moral and spiritual culture. And if
such culture is good at home, it must, also be good in the
school. We ought not, then, so far to separate the intel-
lectual from the moral nature, as to place them entirely
under the care of different teachers. It may be injurious
to the mind itself; for the mind should be developed har-
moniously.
2. There are many branches of education which must
be very much injured by being disconnected from the moral
and spiritual.
Everything to do with Natural History, requires con-
stant connexion with the good and the true. We can
hardly refer to any appearance of the earth, or the heavenly
bodies, without reference to the Supreme Ruler. There are,
also, in many of the common studies, opportunities for con-
240 MR WATERSTONS LECTURE.
sidering the wisdom and goodness of God, or the wants and
duties of the human mind. And it seems tome that where
anything is taught without reference to these tilings, when
the subject admits of it, much is lost that would engage and
interest young minds ; much that would impart life and fresh-
ness to their studies. Would not more interest be felt
in the study of geography, if the character of the inhabi-
tants was spoken of, and the characteristic virtues and vices
of the people dwelt upon ? or if those works of nature
were described, which in the various portions of the globe,
seem to bear most clearly the stamp of an all-wise Creator?
Would not the study of history give more pleasure, if in
it we traced the growth and character of mind, the moral
and spiritual progress of the human race, and the over-
ruling hand of God ? The spiritual would give vital-
ity to almost every topic upon which the mind could think,
and there is hardly any branch of education that would not
necessarily require it, if it were taught thoroughly. We
should never look upon any portion of Nature without
feeling the Divine Presence, and without seeing some re-
flection from of the Infinite Mind, and we should feel that
any study which does not require this may be of value in a
certain sphere, but its value must always be of an inferior
and perishable kind. All knowledge should grow out of
religion as leaves, blossoms, and branches grow cut of
the root and trunk of a tree. Nourished through that
sacred stem, its fruit will give health and vigor to the soul ;
growing elsewhere it must be shrivelled and dry. " The
letter killeth, but the spirit giveth life."
3. Another reason why our schools should attend to
moral and spiritual culture is, that it is a great help to the
intellect. It sharpens the perceptions. It fertilizes the
mind. It renders the mental powers more fruitful. "The
entrance of thy word," says the Psalmist, " giveth liglit,
it giveth understanding even to the simple." Heathen
Philosophy taught, that by cultivating the intellect we
should elevate the moral character, and this, no doubt, to
a great extent, was true ; but Christian Philosophy teaches
a still greater truth, that by cultivating the moral nature,
we ennoble the intellect, for " in the moral being lies the
source of the intellectual." It was the custom of Socrates,
when persons asked him a question, before he answered
MORAL AND SPIRITUAL CULTURE. 241
them, to enquire concerning their moral character, that he
might know whether they were to be benefitted by his re-
ply. "A conquest over a single passion," says Coleridge,
will teach us more of thought, and more effectually awaken
the faculty, and form the habit of reflection, than a year's
study in the schools without it." The purifying of the
heart naturally tends to strengthen the intellect, and fit it
for the reception of truth. Ought we not then by morality
to quicken the mental powers, and temper them aright ?
Is it not best to begin at the true source, even though for
a while the mind should appear to make less progress in
other things? " He goeth belter " sailh St Augustine, " that
creepeth in his way, than he that runneth out of his way."
4. Again, we should encourage moral and spiritual cul-
ture because it is in its very nature of supreme importance.
There is no other culture, in point of real value, which
can be compared with it. Christian morality is necessarily
more precious than knowledge. It gives a right direction
to all the other powers. It is the true source of happiness.
The great purpose of life. The object and end of our
being. Without it the man of knowledge, is but learn-
edly ignorant ; with it the ignorant may be worthy of
heaven. It is the life and soul of all that is good. The
sciences and the arts without it are empty. The Persians
say, that Zoroaster interrogated the Deity, and asked how
the world had begun, and when it would end. The Deity
answered to these questions. " Do what is good, and gain
immortality.^^ Thus while the mere knowledge of things
may gain us earthly honor, the knowledge of the good and
the true will open to us the kingdom of God. Let us then
feel that if we can give a mind a living sense of this one
truth we have done more for it than any learning could do.
If we can lead it to be sincere, obliging and good, to love
everything that is honest and true, we have given it an
impulse of improvement which it will carry in itself; a
healthy impulse which will keep the inward eye ever open
to catch every new ray of Divine light. Let the young
mind, above all things then, be cherished and warmed with
the fire of a holy love. Teach it that for the extent of its
future life, all time will be too short. Let the earth with
its vallies and hills, and deep sky with its burning stars, be
penetrated and illumined by spiritual truth. Thus will the
31
242 MR WATERSTON'S LECTURE.
whole visible creation be one vast mine of wisdom. The
spirit will have become its own teacher, and the most im-
portant truths. will be its daily lessons.
These are a few out of many reasons for attending to
moral and spiritual culture in our schools. The view, I
am aware, may be thought better fitted for the closet than
the world ; but if it is a desirable thing, if it is according
to the Christian plan, then the time will come, sooner or
later, when it will be a matter of practise. Let us, then,
look at our school system, and see if it is all that we could
wish.
Has it enough to do with spiritual culture ? We know
that very much may be said in its praise, and we rejoice
that it is so. But looking at it carefully, may not very
much be said of its defects? We are wont to feel an
honest pride when we speak of the schools of New England ;
but when we remember how far short they still are of the
true standard, we must feel anxious to press on. Let us
learn that the most essential thing is moral culture, and
that mere mechanical knowledge is not enough.
The present opportunity will not permit our going far
into detail ; but let us take up one or two prominent points.
How is our school discipline? This will always have
an important influence on the character of a child.
1 . How are our modes of punishment ? This is a subject
of great importance. One unjust blow may do incalculable
harm ; a petulant, passionate schoolmaster may sour the dis-
positions of many children under his care. Anger should
never take the place of love. Pain should not be so much
feared as the thought of doing wrong. Punishment, to be
respected, should be just. It should be administered with
calmness. It should be given, not as to a child alone, but
an immortal being.
When Plato lifted his hands to strike his servant, he re-
membered his feelings, and stood with his arm uplifted.
When asked by a friend what he was doing, he replied,
" I am punishing a passionate man." Let every teacher
think of Plato, and remember that when punishment is
given with an improper feeling, or in an improper manner,
the children will probably receive more harm than good.
All punishment should, be so given as to produce a moral
effect.
MORAL AND SPIRITUAL CULTURE. 243
2. How are rewards looked upon ? They may strengthen
morality, or weaken it ; and they always do one or the
other. That reward which is unjust, naturally has an im-
moral tendency. That reward which is given to success
rather than to effort has an immoral tendency. That re-
ward which is given without regard to character, has an
immoral tendency. That reward which leads to pride or
ambition, has already awakened immorality. Thus, re-
wards injudiciously given, may lead to moral evil.
Besides, rewards, unless given with great care, are a
false allurement, and produce an artificial excitement
which may ultimately do harm. Learning contains its own
reward ; and that which leads the mind to pursue a true
good, for an outward benefit, may lead to bad results.
Teach a child to love learning for itself, and try to present
it in such a way that it cannot but love it.
D'Alambert, says Sir James Mackintosh, congratulated
a young man very coldly, who brought hitn the solution of
a problem. I have done this to have a seat in the academy,
said the young man. Sir, answered D'Alambert, with such
motives you will never earn one. Science must be loved for
its own sake, and not for the advantage to be derived. No
other principle will enable a man to make true progress.
Those who love the young should feel this. Virtue should
be pursued virtuously, and so should learning. Let the
teacher then if he thinks it best to give rewards do so with
serious reflection, and in doing so strive to teach morality.
3. Public exhibitions may have an immoral tendency.
What are they intended for ? To show the real progress
the school has made? Then let them be a fair specimen.
If at a public exhibition, scholars repeat what they have
for five or six weeks been drilled upon, that exhibition only
shows what the scholars can do after a six weeks drill. If
scholars repeat over some ten pages of a book, which are
the only ten pages they really can repeat, and give it to
be understood that that is a specimen of their knowledge
of the whole book, it is immoral. If the most thorough
scholars are picked out as a sample of the whole, that also
is immoral. Indeed, in as far as an exhibition holds out
an improper specimen as the true one, in just that propor-
tion it njust have an immoral tendency. And the same
principle that prompts it would prompt the farmer to put
244 MR WATERSTON'S LECTURE.
the best wheat at the mouth of his sack, and a tradesman
from the richest sample to sell his poorer merchandize.
I have taken these three, Punishments, Rewards and
Exhibitions, to show that they may each have a moral or
immoral influence upon the young mind. Other parts of
school discipline might be taken up in the same way, and
it would be seen how each and all are constantly changing
for better or worse the character of the pupil. There are
certain insects that become like the leaves and berries they
feed upon, and it is thus with the childs mind, it will be
tinged with the evil or the good that is about it, and for
this reason, every thing in the school should be anxiously
looked into.
Let us now enquire into the teachers duty, and see in
what manner he may watch over the moral nature and at-
tend to its spiritual culture.
1. First he should feel that he is working for a great
end. This should give vigor to the best powers of his
mind. He should concentrate his thoughts in his daily
labors, feeling that his influence may reach into eternity.
He should see in the young beings before him spirits whose
destinies are to endure forever. He should see innocence
just beginning her race, looking forward for the conflict of
life. He should see a confidence which may lead to harm,
an honesty which may be wronged, and hopes which may
be blighted. This will give a subdued ardor to his feelings
and an unassuming earnestness to his actions which will
win for him the love and confidence of all.
2. Entering upon his work with the right purpose the
teacher will seek to understand his scholars and become
acquainted with their minds. This is a high moral duty.
The childs capacity should be studied. The same progress
should not be expected in every scholar, neither should it
be thought that they all can excel in the same studies.
God has given to some quicker memories than others, to
some deeper powers of thought. He has made some with
a capacity for one thing and some for another. There are
some who are rapid in thought, and whose minds ripen
quick, and yet perhaps those of slower developement may
finally make greater progress. The capacities of child-
ren vary not only in degree but in kind, and thus the study
MORAL AND SPIRITUAL CULTURE. 245
of the various capacities is a most important duty, and one
lying at the very root of spiritual culture.
3. The disposition should be studied. This is also a
moral duty. Many a noble nature has been injured, by
having been misunderstood. Boldness is never superior to
modest worth. Forwardness is not smartness, and many
who have a quick tongue, — have an empty head, and a bad
heart. Some children need to be encouraged, some
checked ; some should be led, and perhaps a few driven.
The teacher should study the disposition and the capacity
of the scholar as closely as he wishes them to study their
books. He will then work with nature and not against
her. The dictates of Christian morality teach us to have
a proper respect for the peculiarity of every individual.
Providence had probably a wise meaning in the formation
of every mind, and in putting down one, and raising up
another, we should do it with great care.
4. The example of the teachers may be a constant moral
lesson. Every teacher teaches always. His actions are a
living lesson. He may thus be continually spreading
around him his own virtues. Let the teacher then be mild,
modest, good. Let him cherish virtue in himself and re-
spect it in others. Let him embody the true christian
principles and in every exercise and act, in every word and
deed some good will go forth from him. If there is a
sphere in which a pure christian example will be likely to
produce on the minds of others a permanent influence, it is
in that of the teacher.
5. The teacher might in almost every study excite moral
feelings by direct teaching; by questions, by hints and
conversation. His own heart, warm with generous emo-
tion, and filled with the deep and ardent love of virtue,
will see, in the most common thing, something to awaken
inward life, and will rejoice to impart it to others. Thus
will goodness be shed into their young minds like the soft
beams of the sun, and truths and principles be awakened
which may endure forever.
6. Care should be taken in selections for reading, de-
clamation and the like. An interesting relation of noble
self-sacrifice, or deed of virtuous daring, inay inspire them
with greatness. The beauty and harmony of creation, the
wisdom of God's Providence, the great interests of man
246 MR WATERSTON'S LECTURE.
and such subjects, will ever give delight to the young mind
and prepare it for future good. The lives of distinguished
men might be listened to, and the greatness of their char-
acters tested by the christian rule. That the baseness of
the tyrant, the blood-tracked career of the conqueror, and
the pure devotion of the true patriot, may each be viewed
in its proper light. That the great spirits of good men,
martyr-philosophers, and heaven-guided philanthropists
may be worthily reverenced and loved. Those things, that
some worldly-minded men look upon as very trifling,
may in the end produce stupenduous results. They may
awaken in the heart a mighty power to wrestle against evil
and to pass triumphantly through the trials and vicisitudes
of life. We cannot look too carefully to these sources.
They may lead to great good, and do vastly more than one
would at first imagine.
7 There might be books upon the subject of morals,
which could be regularly studied in connexion with other
branches. It is true that a book of rules will not necessa-
rily make a virtuous mind, but it may lead to it. It may
prepare the way. At a proper age the use of money
might be explained, and its connexion with the great prin-
ciples of selfishness and benevolence. Its true nature
might be shown, that it is not a good in itself, but only a
means, and hence the wisdom of having the end found-
ed in virtue. The nature of rents and wages might be
morally shown, and the relative duties of the rich and poor,
the fanner and manufacturer, the citizen and the govern-
ment. The design of law might be spoken of, and the
duty of giving it due reverence. All these things, and
many more, are intimately connected with true morality,
and might be usefully taught in our schools.
We have considered some of the reasons for and against
Moral and Spiritual Culture. We have looked at our
school system in its present state, and pointed out some of
the improvements that might be made, and the moral
duties of those who enter upon the office of teacher.
From what has been said it will be seen that the office of
teacher is a high office. This is true. There is probably
no office on the face of the earth more important. The cel-
ebrated Dr South, in a sermon preached as long ago as
1650, says, " I look upon an able, well-principled school-
MORAL AND SPIRITUAL CULTURE. 247
master as one of the most meritorious subject, in any
prince's dominions. Nay, I take schoolmasters to have
a more powerful influence upon the spirits of men, than
preachers themselves ; forasmuch as they have to deal with
younger and tenderer minds, and consequently have the
advantage of making the deepest impressions. It being
seldom found that the pulpit mends what the school has
marred." This view is as true now as it was then, and is
perhaps as little felt. The office needs in itself to be
greatly raised in the opinions of men. Its wide-spread
influence should be more deeply reflected upon. It has
been our schools that have given joy to the fire-sides of
New England. They have iniparted intelligence to our
statesmen and wisdom to our laws. Even as they are,
they have produced an effect upon the character of the
people. The work of the schoolmaster is every where ;
others have worked upon matter, he has worked upon
mind. He has influenced the spirit, and guided the char-
acter. " Give me, says some one, the schools and the school-
books, and by and by I will have both the churches and
the courts of law." The teachers of our land are moulding
out the future destinies of the people. They are putting
their stamp and seal to the future character of the nation.
They are turning the wheels which will presently move a
coming generation. Surely then there is no office on earth
which is more important.
And if the office is so important, it should be well filled.
Every teacher should be both wise and good. If high
moral worth is needed anywhere it is in the teacher.
There is no sphere under heaven where a pure heart and a
sense of accountability to God are more necessary than
here. There is noplace where skepticism might more cun-
ningly breathe its venom, or virtue unfold truth. There is
no place then which calls for nobler powers, or a more dis-
criminating sense of right. No one should fill the office
who does not wish his own soul to aspire towards God.
No one should teach for mere money. Taking a school
is something more than a matter of bargain. The work
should be entered upon as the ministry is entered upon,
with a feeling of sanctity. The teacher must teach be-
cfuse he loves to teach, and because he is thus fulfilling a
high duty. The community should give liberal remunera-
248 MR WATERSTON'S LECTURE.
tion to teachers ; but still the teacher should not keep his
eye on the silver and gold. A higher purpose, a more lofty
end, should stir his heart. When the Old Athenian found
that his armor-bearer served him for money, he exclaimed,
" Give me back my buckler, since you serve me for that,
you are no longer worthy to bear it." So we may say of
that teacher who cares for no more than what he can get.
The teacher should not say how much can I make, but
how much can I do. He should be a devout man, one
who can love the faith and affection and simplicity ol
children. He should be one
" Who in the silent hour of inward thought
Can still suspect and still revere himself
In lowliness of heart."
He should think of the troubles and sorrows and adversi-
ties of life ; its joys, its griefs and temptation, and seek to
fit the young mind to go through them with christian trust.
He should, in the beautiful language of Wordsworth, be
one
Whose high endeavors are an inward light,
To make tlie path before him always bright ;
Who fixes good on good alone, and owes
To virtue every triumph that he knows,
Who with a natural instinct to discern
What knowledge can perform, is diligent to learn ;
Abides by this resolve, and stops not there,
But makes their moral being his prime care.
This, it seems to me, is the ideal of what a teacher should
be, and the nearer he approaches it, the more worthy will
he be to fill his office, and the more likely to benefit
the children under his care.
On the part of the public the office of teacher should be
respected. The intelligent and virtuous should place the
teacher on his true elevation. His vocation should be
treated with the reverence and dignity it deserves. Per-
haps the reason why there has been a deficiency in this re-
spect, is, that the most important part of instruction has
been so much neglected. If it be so, then let the commu-
nity place a nobler charge under his care, and while he
watches over the moral and spiritual nature, they should
give a proportionate respect to his office, and honor his
sacred trust.
Again, no just compensation should be thought too great
MORAL AND SPIRITUAL CULTURE. 249
to secure the labors of competent minds. We ought to
have men of the first talent and of high moral worth.
Money is a small consideration in comparison with this.
Let every parent then have an open hand. If we would
have teachers throughout the country of the firmest princi-
ples and most elevated minds, the community must be
liberal.
And this is not all. The parent must have an open
heart, as well as an open hand. He has a further obliga-
tion than paying the quarterly account. He must co-op-
erate with the teacher. He must advise with him. He
must make him his friend, (for surely no parent would put
his child with one whom he would not call his friend.)
This will give power to the teacher's mind. It will add to
his usefulness. It will enable him to educate with more
advantage the minds which will now look up to him with
greater affection.
The teacher should as much as possible make his occu-
pation a permanent thing. It should not be considered as
a mere stepping-stone to something else, a mere halting
place between youth and manhood, between the college
and a profession. Teaching should be a profession in
itself.
It would be well if we had seminaries for teachers. In
Prussia there have long been such institutions, where every
effort has been made to render the teacher worthy of his
station. Does not the duty of teacher call for as careful a
preparation as law, or medicine, or divinity ? It would no
doubt do much to promote Moral and Spiritual Culture in
our schools if good seminaries for this purpose were es-
tablished.
This Institute is doing much to awaken the community
to the importance of the subject we are now considering.
Since its first establishment its lectures have breathed the
true spirit. May it go on doing more and more to elevate
the tone of public feeling. May it declare in the strong
eloquence of truth, the deficiency that still exists, and
strive by unwearied effort so to present its facts and its ar-
guments as to arouse every thinking mind to vigorous ac-
tion.
It rests after all with the religious sense of the com-
munity. Moral and Spiritual Culture will be attended to
32
260 MR WATERSTON'S LECTURE.
in the same proportion as the rehgious spirit grows deeper
in the public mind. And each advance that is made should
be welcomed. Were a child born merely to vegetate, had
he merely his limbs and his fine senses, then indeed it
would matter less, but when we feel his connexion with
God, and the sublime and excellent prospects to which the
Infinite Father has called him, then the value of Spiritual
Culture is more realized. The future and the present unite,
and we see eternity looking through time. The immortal
stands by the mortal — the visible by the invisible, and we
feel the comparative value of each. It is this view that
opens in its whole length and breadth the importance of
our subject. We see that in some measure eternal issues
are hung upon it. It has to do with all the relations of life.
Man's duties to himself, his family,, his neighbor, his coun-
try and his God. — All, all, will be more or less affected by
the moral direction that is given in the early stages of ed-
ucation. May the time come when this will be acknowl-
edged and felt. May the day be near when the thou-
sands of children throughout our land, will be instructed in
sound morality, that they may have purity of heart, good
principles, and enlarged views of duty.
APPENDIX.
I AM happy in being able to offer in connexion with the fore-
going lecture, two letters from esteemed friends, upon the same
subject. They were read at the time before the Institute.
The first is by one, who for thirteen years, has been an active
member of the school committee, and who has thus had an un-
common opportunity of noticing the effects of moral instruction
on the general improvement of our schools.
The second is by one who has long devoted himself to the
improvement of the young, and whose great success and philan-
thropic character are too well known, to need any mention
here.
Boston.
Dear Sir — In answer to the questions which you have pro-
posed, as to any knowledge I may have of the effect of moral
teaching on the character of a school, 1 reply, that from an
observation extending over many years and a large number of
Primary Schools in this city, I have invariably found, that just
in proportion as a moral influence and discipline has been exer-
cised over a school, a regard paid to the moral conduct of its
pupils, and the moral tone infused, that there the government
has been the easiest, the order the most perfect, and the im-
provement the greatest.
I may add, that this is not a barren conviction, but that in
consequence of it an effort has recently been made to introduce
Ethics as a part of the course of instruction in our Primary
Schools, and as a book is now in preparation for it (by Rev.
Jacob Abbott) at the request of a committee of the board, we
hope it will be crowned with success.
Yours, very respectfully,
LEWIS G. PRAY.
School for Moral Discipline
My Dear Friend — I have but a few moments in which to
answer your inquiry as to the practicability of introducing the
study of morals into our schools generally. All that I can say
on this subject must be wholly from my own observation, as I
am not otherwise much informed.
262 APPENDIX.
I answer then, first, I think it fully practicable, and second, I
think it highl}' important.
I think it practicable because I have found it so. For seven
years past I have had from 600 to 700 boys under my care, and
though I am in the habit of playing with them at various amus-
ing games, of reading amusing books, and telling witty and ex-
citing anecdotes, yet I have never found any subject which will
produce so deep, so strong an interest as moral subjects, —
I mean, too, the morality of the heart. I find also, that they
can understand and reason upon those great truths which are
spread over the vast arena between this world and the other ;
and which unite us to God and the Saviour, and which by their
operation will bring us nearer and nearer to him.
I said also that I think it highly important. I have not found
it simply a great, a beautiful, a poetical, a wonderful subject, to
excite and interest the mind, but I have seen (as plainly as one
mind can see the operations of another) the purifying, the enno-
bling, the converting influence of these moral sentiments when
made clear, — or rather Z^/if clear and simple, and made con-
stantly and regularly to fall upon the youthful heart like drops
of rain upon the tender grass.
We must do this work with great patience, line upon line,
precept upon precept, here a little, and there a little. We must
show by our deep interest that we feel these truths to be of high
importance, and must prove by our words and actions their effi-
cacy on us. Very respectfully, your Friend,
E. M. P. WELLS.
I
LECTURE XII.
THE MORAL USES
OF THE STUDY OF NATURAL HISTORY.
BY W. CHANNING, M. D.
>:*
NATURAL HISIORY.
In the following Lecture I beg leave to ask your atten-
tion to a few remarks on the Moral Uses of the Study of
Natural History ; in other words, the relations of the eternal
world, the universe, to the moral nature. This topic has
not the recommendation of entire novelty, for who that has
written of man, and of all that surrounds him has omitted
to notice his dependencies in a great many regards on
what is about, and beyond him ? By some who have
treated the subject, however, the universe has been looked
upon as a whole, or as addressing itself to the moral na-
ture in its masses only, — by others its relations to man have
been seen in its laws so called, the supposed agencies by
which, so to speak, it is kept together, or its parts act upon
each other ; my purpose is, (for it is my belief,) to show that
in whatever view, and in every view, whether in the smallest
hand specimen of a mineral species, or in the congregated
Alps, the external, alike in its vastness, and its minuteness,
is related to the moral, is designed to act upon it, and for
the highest ends. Now this view of my subject has not
been the popular, by which I mean the general one ; and
the student of natural history, how much soever his intel-
lect may have been helped by his studies, and their objects,
has rarely regarded them as ministering more powerfully
and usefully in the development of his affections, the growth
of his moral nature.
Natural history is the most comprehensive of studies.
It includes in its widest acceptation the whole external
world. What is the universe but a vast arrangement for
the being, active or passive, of everything which we com-
256 DR W. CHANNINGS LECTURE.
prise in that term. Not as we make things out of
others ; not as we give them form and place and change ;
but as they came into, and have continued in being.
Growth and decay, — reproduction and disappearance, —
permanency and mutability in all their degrees and in all
their kinds, — whatever has been, or is, the past in its
products, the present in its seeming persistency, such
are the objects which belong to natural history. One
then of its most obvious characters is its vastness. But
everything in the universe is an individual. Every-
thing in the important and distinctive sense of being, is
exclusive, is independent, is by itself. A circle surrounds
it more impenetrable than all that has been claimed for the
magic one, for it is a real barrier, a boundary which by an
immutable law of nature cannot be surmounted, by any
other being, — and by a law as remarkable as this, nothing
attempts its violation. The works of the universe proceed
in their silent ceaseless activity, everything kept in its place
by itself, and by everything around it, — and altogether
making a whole. The universe is a whole ; however nu-
merous, however individual and independent each of its
parts, its smallest alike with its largest ; still together they
make a whole. How humbling is human effort, however
vast, when its works are regarded in this relation of whole-
ness. How abrupt are their edges, how interfering their
angles, how awkward, and impracticable in what they at-
tempt to do, or we try to do with them. Do not let us be
stopt by that spinning jenny, or that steam engine, or
that balloon, — these are all things, \n no sense are they
ideas, — they contribute in sooth to man's comfort, or gratify
his curiosity, but how little do they minister to his moral or
to his intellect ? They have some relations it is granted to
his physical state, not nature, but how little, how nothing
to his highest, his moral being. With the universe how dif-
ferent in all thsee regards. This addresses itself in its parts,
and in its oneness, to all eyes and to all hearts. We look
on and admire and love all ; but no jealousy comes over us,
no discontent. The everlasting ocean, whether of water,
of air, of light, is full of joy to us, and in its brightness
and beauty seems to partake of that moral state to which it
ministers, and which it does so much to produce.
This sentiment of perfect satisfaction, to use such a
NATURAL HISTORY. 257
word, and this absence of all feeling of jealousy, however
useful, beautiful, or vast may be the objects seen and heard
by us, is deserving notice here. We do not desire to
invent a better atmosphere, a brighter sun, to fabricate a
more exquisite flower, or to put together, and paint a more
beautiful bird. How salutary is such an influence, when
felt in its power, for a being who surrounds himself, or is
surrounded by what fills him with discontent; which min-
isters to a poor jealousy ; and all of which when surpassed by
him only makes him more proud. The lesson of the universe
to man is on every side, humility. It comes to him alike
from the vast and minute. Everything teaches, and presses
it upon him, and without obtruding its moral, asks of him
only this, be humble.
There is another aspect in which the universe should
always be viewed, and that is its truth. Its truth is de-
clared to us by all its manifestations. It is so to speak
never at fault, and never deceives us. Go into the darkest
cavern, let it be never so deep, — never so vast, — pierce
its deep thick uails, and let the opening be never so
small that we have made, and wliat a flood of light
pours in. Yes, this winged messenger has come on his
errand from millions of miles without a turn, or a false
step in all his long way, and beams amidst the thick dark-
ness as brightly as with its unnumbered comrades in the
upper and outer air. So is it with water, so it is with the
subtle atmosphere, — so is it with the universe. This
truth, truth to itself, and to everything which makes itself,
is a quality which while it distinguishes all the works of
the universe, it was said is a matter for man to think over,
to study, to find new illustrations of, in every day and hour
of his being. What is the study of natural history but a
study of truth ? Not an external truth, so to speak, only
or chiefly, but a quality, I had almost said a spiritual
quality, which belongs to the works of God, and by which
we, man, are related to them, and they to us. The study
of truth is a good study. What than it, is there which
promises so much for man's happiness here and forever as
this study ? Do you think of gathering wealth around
you ? how false is this, and how false has it been to man.
Is it human learning, — what other minds have done, and
other men thought and said, — is here the sure path to
33
}
258 DR W. CHANNING'S LECTURE.
truth ? — is it place, and a poor power, — a power over a
man, or a nation ? — is this the object of desire and is it
this we study, — alas! truth lies not in its way — and the
mind that obtains all that lies in it, may be as broken, as
powerless, as untrue, as all that it is foolish enough to think
it controls. All these things will be sought, — men will
be buried in gold, overlaid with impracticable riches, live
in the untruth and love it, with a whole universe of good,
of truth, of beauty around them, and go to their graves,
and wake to the spiritual — how, it is not given us to know.
And so will it be with learning, and with power. But can
it be that there will never be a revelation to us of the
whole truth of nature ? Will not the time come when the
silence of nature will be heard ? How full, how true is its
language forever, — it will be heard. There is another
remark in this connexion that is relative and important.
We may not see the whole universe. Our sight may be fee-
ble, and a very little of nature may be made known to us.
But the little here is as true as the whole. He who has
studied a single blade of grass, — loved the humblest
flower, or had his heart visited and filled with happy
thoughts by any portion of God's universe, has known the
truth, — he has in that small joy though it may be, a treasure
which will be ministered to and increased by every new
revelation of beauty, by every kindred joy he may know.
It is this character in the external, of the universe, this
spirit of internal life, and endless growth, this truth, which
relates the external to man ; and leads him out to it for
that which he most longs for, permanent sources, true
means of his fehciiy.
Let me allude to another circumstance in our subject
which still further commends it to our regard. The uni-
verse is all energy, but in its vastest as well as its minutest
operations it is noiseless. We get from all that is pre-
sented to us in nature the doctrine that the highest efficiency
is not incompatible with the most perfect noiselcssness.
Changes, immense in their amount, — eflects, the detail of
which we could neither follow, nor understand ; so infinite
is the number, and so subtle is the agency, — all, and much
more than all this, is constantly presented to us, but so un-
obtrusively, with such unbroken tranquility, that it requires
often an effort of mind for it to be directed to it, and a still
\
NATURAL HISTORY. 26^
Stronger one to fix on it the whole attention. Such is the
quiet, the repose of nature in the very midst and pressure
of an unimaginable efficiency. And now what is this
most Ike when compared with human effort? Is it not
most like to thought, the act of thinking, especially when
this act is manifested in the work of an author. In the
succession of thought, the development of principles, the
machinery and action in the epic, whether physical, moral
or intellectual, or all these, — is there not in all this an
energy, a productiveness, akin to what is exerted in nature,
and characterised by the same unobtrusive repose ? A
work of art, a picture in the highest range of the art, gives
us this notion perhaps still more vividly. We look at such
a work with somewhat of that joyful content, — internal
peace, — true unalloyed pleasure, which the beautiful in the
universe produces — we are in correspondence, — in har-
mony,— with what ? — not with the mere oil, the paint, the
canvass before us. Oh no. With much more and higher
than all these ; we are in sympathy, in feeling, with the
mind, the spirit which caused all this beauty, which painted
this picture, and that spirit has been a creator, and we are
looking at its exquisite creation. How true is the doctrine
of that consummate philosopher, or knower of the human
soul, Coleridge, which teaches thatthe cause, the spring of all
we see and love in nature and art is in the spiritual, — some-
thing more and other than the mere arrangements of matter
upon the surface of which we only look, something within
everything, and without everything, which pursues its sub-
lime and noiseless labors, unperceived by us, or only per-
ceived when our spirits hold communion with it, — become,
I ought to have said, one with it.
How grateful is this lesson of tranquillity to man. How-
much does he need it. We live in a state of unrest. We
are pulling down and building up to the extent of our
power, everything placed within our reach. The ancient
and venerable of human institutions, — the external in art,
or in nature, — whatever has been or is, is not passing
away indeed, but assuming new forms, — the changes inci-
dent to all and everything, and which are constantly in pro-
gress, silent progress, are attempted to be hastened by the
alterations and substitutions of what we hope to find better,
and which sojnething whispers to us too audibly to be
260 t>R W. CHANNING'S LECTURE.
unheard, will be better. Wealth is the power which one, or
many exert, and thought is the instrument with others ;
which however it may be, physical considerations are the
ends of much of our activity, and noise, tumult and unrest
attend the whole operation. Now is it not good for man
in such an age, to have before him daily and hourly, what
may teach him the salutary truth that noise and universal
disquiet are not necessary for the utmost efficiency of a
moral nature, — that he has higher wants, than physical
ones, that there are sources of happiness around him, and
close to him, truer and better than what he is laboring after ?*
I have alluded to the vast, and to the numberless in nature.
It may be asked — with so much vastness, — with such
unnumbered objects, how can the universe be made an
object of study, ol knowledge? This is a pertinent ques-
tion. There have been men wiio have been filled with the
universe, with whom nature has l)een as a beloved child, or
an honored, beloved mother, whose will concerning man
and his soul, has been as a law of love, and which they
have bowed to with an unutterable reverence. Such a
naturalist is Wordsworth. I do not say that he has not
most faithfully studied the universe, — I do not say that
he has not found more truth in it than all the professed
naturalists in the world. To such a mind the outward
world is a vast volume. Its pages, never to be exhausted,
are records of relations, not barely things, new in every one
of their turnings, and true whenever turned. To such a
mind, vastness, and number, and variety, produce no con-
fusion, for its own nature harmonizes with, and reaches to,
all these qualities of the external. Such a man may be
said truly to apprehend nature. He may never dream of
explaining what he sees, any more than he would attempt
to communicate an intellectual state, or give to another a
portion of his own mind. And explanation here is not
needed. Every human mind may so apprehend the uni-
verse. It may be not equally, but in whatever degree it
will be alike true, and alike a whole.
But aside from this apprehension of harmony, — this
* VVc are told that in building the 'temple of Jerusalem that it was
commanded that the sound of the axe and the hammer should not be
heard ; as if in such a work tJje silence which attends the operations of
nature shculd brood over and sanctify the labors of man.
NATURAL HISTORY. 261
knowledge of the universe in its truth, in its moral aspects,
and which every man should strive for, and for the attain-
ing of which, nothing but a sincere love of truth is neces-
sary ; — I say aside and independent of this study, there is
another, which continues to be emphatically called the
study of Natural History ; that, viz., which is occupied
about the individuals themselves, and the relations of differ-
ence which subsist among them. To one uninformed in
this matter such knowledge might seem of all others the
most difficult to arrive at. The wisest of men was distin-
guished, among other things, by his knowledge in one de-
partment of this study ; lor it is said, he knew every plant
from the cypress to the hyssop of the wall. But modern
labors have made this study most easy. Classification, the
philosophy, as well as the nomenclature of all natural sci-
ence, is so perfect, that confusion has ceased in every
department, and we place things together as truly, and as
easily, however separated by accidental distance, or how-
ever rare, and hitherto unknown, as we arrange what we
are most intimately acquainted with. We can raise a gi-
gantic fabric, from the smallest fragment of a bone, it may
be of an extinct species — learn all its habits, — its moral,
so to speak, and its physical history, and all this as easily
as we can put together a human skeleton, and tell of the
character and habits of the human animal to which it be-
longed.
And why do we never fail ? Where is the secret of all
this certainty, where there seems so little to guide us?
Why do we take on trust, declarations which come from
sotnething like human testimony ? It is mainly because of
its little resemblance to this testimony in the common use
of the word. It is because of the unchanged and un-
changeable truth of the universe. This character belongs to
its parts, its minutest portions, as well as to its vastest. Its
individual things are true, as well as the whole they make ;
the smallest grain of sand, the smallest ray of light, as is
the whole universe. This study of Natural History, then,
distinguished on all sides as it is from that to which I first
alluded, has vast uses. It accustoms the mind to the con-
templation and minute investigation of the true ; it does
present objects to the mind, of more real worth than are
many human pursuits, which, unhappily, are more prized.
262 DR W. CHAJJNING'S LECTURE.
But what especially commends this study, is the undoubted
fact, that it may be pursued by everybody ; and, so far
from interfering with any other, it will be the very best
preparation for all.
To enable men to pursue this study,, vast collections have
been made, and every day adds to these treasures. No ex-
pense has been spared for the preservation of these collec-
tions ; and states have vied with each other, and individuals
with whole nations to increase these stores. Our own
country, and this city have entered into these labors, and
with a zeal which nothing can subdue.
But why have these collections been made ? Why so
much of time, talent and money expended ? What is the
whole value of such possessions ? The answers to these
questions may be gathered from what has already been said.
But indulge me while I speak more at length of the use of
Natural History, as presented to us in such collections.
We certainly have not made these collections for them-
selves alone. We do not make these careful arrangements,
that what we have got may be better to themselves in any
sense of the word. The mineral would have rested as well
in its native earth, and the shell in " the deep bosom of the
ocean buried" ; the remains of the ancient and the extinct,
of the modern and existing species, would have been as
secure without this human care as with it. The decay, or
rather change, incident to all things on earth, or in air,
would, to all these objects of our deep concern, have been
alike unnoticed and unknown.
We look to good in tfiem, then, mainly from their rela-
tions— their relations to all other things, and especially to
ourselves. It is, however, to ourselves chiefest, that they
have most value. They are related alike to the intellect
and the affections ; they, with all the external world, are
a revealed force ; they are manifestations of a power within
and around them, which is felt by us to be like to that
power within ourselves which gives to us efficiency ; the
force- principle, if I may so speak, in virtue of which, wedo
alike the will of God, and carry into effect every purpose,
accomplish every design. Is there any other way by which
the external world can do man good ? Is it beauty that
attracts us, — and can it do so, but by a power or state
within us, with which it is in perfect harmony ? Is it in
NATURAL HISTORY. 263
the external only, or with forms, that we have to do ? If
so, how is that which is without form, so to sp.eak, the un-
limited and illi(nitable spirit, so readily brought to sympa-
thise with that external; to gain nutriment from it — to
feel deeply conscious that in the enjoyment of the beautiful,
its capacity of farther enjoyment has been revealed to it ;
and, in this conviction, to find a new and stronger motive
to go farther than the actual, that which it has already ac-
quired, into new regions of nature, to gather there new and
larger supplies for the mind's wants, and this in endless
progression. There is nothing mysterious or unintelligible
in this notion of the relations of the external with ourselves,
of the inherent power in them, in virtue of which, they are
just what they are, with that within us which constitutes our-
selves. At least the mystery is no greater, than our own
nature, and he who rejects a great truth, because it involves
the condition of faith before it can be received, has but a
narrow field of truth before him. He has little more to ask
than wherewithal he shall be fed, clothed and sheltered,
and how he may in the easiest mode satisfy these conditions
of his comfortable being.
These collections are made, then, as means ; in no sense
as ends. An end, let it be what and where it may, is the
sure stop to farther eftbrt in its own particular direction.
It is the death and the grave of progress. It belongs to
nothing else, and, philosophically as well as morally, it is a
state that never can be. To us the intimate connexions and
reciprocal action of all things, on each other may not be obvi-
ous, or they may never be dreamed of. But it is no less
true, that everything in nature, the most minute with the
vastest, is active, is exerting energy, is operating within
itself, and upon everything beyond itself. It is never truly
the same, never at rest. It never presents to us an end,
and if we find one, it is because we have denied to our-
selves the perception of progress, shut our eyes to a cease-
less energy, in a scene in which everything, by a universal
law is active and progressive.
How deep is the interest, then, in nature, and in its con-
stant study. How does it come to us with revelations of
beauty and of good, in all and every of its manifestations.
How does it speak of the internal power, of which it is the
external, the visible representation. How great becomes to
264 DR W. CHANNING'S LECTURE.
US the value of everything, no matter how common, when
this, its true character, is felt and acknowledged by us. We
no longer wonder at the surpassing zeal with which men have
entered into these studies. We see them panting on the
line, and follow them in their progress of pain and privation
to the farthest pole. We find them everywhere cheerful, ele-
vated, constant, going on by that internal power, which with-
out a figure, when pure and free, removes mountains. These
men are the truest spiritualists, for without the enduring
perception of the exact harmony between themselves and
the whole of nature, they must have failed ; but in the
clearness of their internal light, they have never attempted
the impossible, and therefore has it been that they have
come back again from their long exile from man, and
brought with them the proofs of a power within and with-
out them, which otherwise would in its whole amount have
never been known. The intellectual and spiritual relations
of the external, then, are those things for which we should
love and truly prize natuie and its studies. They are the
best nutriment for the mind, and for the affections. When
seen in their truth, these studies never produce pride, and
for benevolence, they are the best ministers. We feel
always and ever, that sucfi studies belong to everybody, in
the great sense of universal community. The naturalist,
who writes in the true inspiration of nature, does it for the
whole human family. He cannot have pride for the suc-
cess of his labors, for these labors never encourage selfish-
ness. His collections, made as they as they often are, with
the extreme of self-sacrifice, are felt by him to belong to
everybody. He throws them at once into the common
stock, and, as in the apostolic times, there is here, at least,
a community of goods. The lives of distinguished natural-
ists, are abundant proof of all this. They discover to us
the greatest simplicity, blended with a corresponding mild-
ness, gentleness of disposition. Their own success is grate-
ful to them because of their objects, not on account of
themselves. They are hence always delighted with the
success of others, and envy, malice, and uncharitableness,
have no place with them.
What is thus true of the devoted, belongs in its measure
to all cultivators of natural science. They may all read
" sermons in stones, books in the running brooks, and good
USES OF NATURAL HISTORY. 265
in everything." They may all find solace here, for the per-
turbation, and the discomfort which belongs to so much of
their common toil. The mind will be stored with good, and
knowledge, and the affections raised and purified. I have
spoken of the relations of the external world to the moral
nature, and of the uses of Natural History, as discovered
to us by those who have and do devote themselves to its
study. But these uses should not be confined in their op-
eration to a few, — to any particular class in a community.
The means of this study should be accessible to all, to
every man, woman and child, everywhere, more especially
should this be the case, wherever collections are made.
The whole benefit of such collections should be within the
easy reach of the whole community.
There are classes of men everywhere, which, from their
occupations and condition, are excluded from all, or the
most that is done by other, and so considered, the more
favored classes, and absolutely knew but little more of the
objects of their interest, than the outside of the houses
which they may build for their accommodation, or the clothes
they may make for them to wear. Of the great objects of
principal and personal interest of those who devote some or
much of their time to study, and of those who devote
wealth for accumulating around them the means of a vari-
ous learning, they absolutely know nothing. Hence the
height and depth of that wall of partition which separates
the classes of men, and hence that want of true sympathy
between them, the exercise of which, is so sure to make
happier and better all who cherish it.
This state of things is peculiar to America and England.
Almost everywhere else, and in all periods of the history of
other nations, a common property, in its important and
most useful sense, alike among the rich and the poor, the
learned and the unlearned, has been, and is held, in the
science, the literature, and the arts of the times. The phi-
losophers of ancient Greece, discoursed of philosophy in
public. In the shop of a mechanic, Socrates could find a
willing and intelligent auditory, as he taught his divine sci-
ence. In modern times, in Italy and France, for instance,
the richest stores of art, natural history, &c., are open to
the enjoyment and to the making better of all. I have
been told, with what truth I cannot vouch, that when the
34
266 DR W. CHANNINGS LECTURE.
Italian peasantry come up to Rome at the seasons of the
high festivals of their church, they maybe seen of all ranks,
and in all costumes, now sauntering among the ruins of the
eternal city, and now gazing with reverence and pleasure
at the immortal in art, the wonderful and beautiful of na-
ture in the museum or the Vatican. They go to all that
may be seen with the freedom and pleasure, that a mind
fitted to enjoy the good and the beautiful always bestows.
Much of all this is true of France. The Louvre and the
Garden of Plants with all they contain, are thus open and
free. You are not there, as in England, met with a dun at
the entrance place to the curious or the venerable, whether
the object of your interest be the property of the public or
the individual.
And now what is the effect on the national character of
these countries, viz., Italy and France? I mean in regard
to the things of which I have spoken. It discovers itself in
the interest which all from the highest to the lowest take,
in the preservation of these great works of nature and art.
There, statuary is safe from mutilation, and the most
delicate specimens of Natural History, are looked on
and admired without being rudely handled and broken. I
have nothing to say of the character of these nations in
other regards. However debased, profligate, and sensual
this may be, we have abundant causes for all in the super-
stition, the ignorance, and moral blindness in which it is
the supposed policy of the governments to keep them. I
speak of one use of the mind, only, its apprehension, and
love of beauty, and freedom here displays itself in the
fulness and depth of that love.
How is it with us in all this, and how stands England in
regard to it ? A very different state of feeling and practice
answers the question. We must lock up the rare and the
beautiful, or they may very soon change their forms or
their places. They are not valued for those things only on
account of which they can only have value, their actual
state. Something must be learnt about them which they
do not and cannot reveal. I once heard a distinguished
professor of anatomy begin a lecture which required many,
and very nice preparations for its illustration, by saying that
a learned foreign traveller to America had said that our
national characteristic was a desire to know the strength of
NATURAL HISTORY. 267
things, and he told the class that they might take his honest
word for it that his specimens were very brittle, and ear-
nestly besought them not to try their strength.
Wliy is this ? It is not only because there is a want of
current taste amongst us, a perception and enjoyment of
the beautiful in nature and art. But because this taste is
not wide nor deep, nor sufficiently developed and minis-
tered to. It is soon satisfied, and then the senses, especially
the touch, put in their claim for some portion of the gratifi-
cation. Taste is not wanting. Those who went much to
the earliest Atheneum exhibitions of pictures here must recol-
lect to have seen many people there from a class not ordi-
narily found in similar places of resort. They must have
met them there with pleasure. They saw how many came,
how long they staid, and though the characteristic silence
of the class, their natural unwillingness to express what
they feel, even in their countenances, was apparent, still it
was obvious they were pleased. They were in the pre-
sence of treasures of art, and they showed they were not
indiflferent to the beauty and sublimity which were re-
vealed.
Communities may be benefitted in the same way by col-
lections in natural history. It is their true interest to ren-
der such collections as really public as they can possibly be
made. They should bestow on societies formed for this
study their more liberal patronage, and by this patronage
make their collections the property of the whole public.
In this way they multiply the means of innocent, and truly
elevating gratification. They impart knowledge, one of
the fundamental principles of which, as we have seen, is
truth, and the invigorating influence of this principle comes
at length to be deeply felt and acknowledged by all. The
members of societies so patronized should feel the claims
of the government and of the people which are established in
this way, and should answer them by the most liberal be-
stowment of their time and their talents in communicating
knowledge. They should throw open their collections,
and be statedly ready to communicate all useful knowledge
to all who seek after it. Let us admit every body to the
treasures that are made, that they may acquire moral, intel-
lectual, incorruptible wealth from these its true sources, —
that they may be awakened to the love and veneration of
268- DR W. CHANNING'S LECTURE.
the beautiful and the true, — that here the mind may rest
from its unquiet and its unsatisfying labors, and a more
healthy tone be imparted to the moral state of communities.
Aside from the benefits which a community may derive
from free access to such collections, there is a consideration
which deserves notice, and this is that societies themselves,
their members, will always derive advantage from the
same thing. The good and the labor a man does for
others always return to his own bosom. He has a high
motive for continued effort in the midst of many and in-
terested witnesses. How can progress be for a moment
checked when it is thus helped on, because it is good that
it should go on to all in any way concerned.
In conclusion, and as an inference from all that has been
said, however imperfectly this may have been done, let me
remark, that opportunities for the development and in-
crease of the perception and enjoyment of the truth of
nature, in the vast, and the minute, the beautiful and the
sublime everywhere should be freely offered to all. There
is one class which has peculiar claims, and I need make no
apology for presenting and urging these on this occasion
and before such an audience. This class is the young.
The freshness, the simplicity, the susceptibleness, and let
me add the moral purity and freedom of youth, singularly
fit it for the highest and best ministry of nature. In the
city, opportunities for this are not large. They must be
found in collections of natural history, and especially in the
dispositions of those who make, own, and understand them,
to communicate much of what such collections can teach.
In the country, opportunities exist and present themselves
everywhere. They are to be found in the succession of the
seasons, made more striking by the occupations, as well as
changes, constantly taking place, — in the glorious and unob-
structed firmament, — in the stars, the poetry of heaven, — in
the forest, that quiet and kindly brotherhood of trees, — in
the silence, the order, the dignity, so to speak, which every-
where prevails. Everything in short is abroad, and at hand
in the country to minister to the development and the growth,
of the moral nature. This Institute is designed to promote
education. I understand by this word the revelation to the
individual of his moral and intellectual nature. The work of
education is not half done, its purpose not half accomplished
NATURAL HISTORY. 269
it rest in the cultivation of a few of the mind's powers.
Let it be instrumental in making the great revelation which
is its sacred office. Let the young know and feel that
whenever they think, and whenever they act, they do both
and everything by the use of the moral and intellectual
nature within them ; and above all that the whole universe
was called into being to reveal, and harmonize with, the
spiritual in man, as well as to sustain his physical being,
How mysterious seems and is this revelation of the mind,
the spiritual. What power does the consciousness of such
possessions bring with it ! How much will education have
accomplished when this shall be its consummation. My
purpose has been to show how far the study, the know-
ledge and especially the love of nature, the love of its
truth, may lead to it.
LECTURE XIII.
SCHOOLS OF THE ARTS
BY W. JOHNSON.
c
SCHOOLS OF THE ARTS.
Among numerous causes which contribute to the welfare
of our species, considered in the aggregate, few can be
mentioned more deeply interesting, than the productive
industry of nations.
While war was the chief occupation, and rapine the fre-
quent amusement of those who boasted themselves the
chiefs of mankind, it can hardly be considered surprising
that the industrious, of all classes, should be little regarded,
or if heeded at all should be mainly employed as the servile
ministers to pride, avarice, lust or ambition.
It was not until the course of events had in some meas-
ure opened the eyes of mankind to the folly of attributing
to martial exploits all the glory which human beings can
possibly attain, to the glowing absurdity of investing the
mere soldier of fortune with supreme control over the lives
and the destinies of his fellow beings, and to the monstrous
injustice of placing those who essentially support and
adorn society, in a degraded rank with respect to the other
classes of their fellow men ; — it was not until these truths
had gained some ascendency over the prejudices of the
world, that it began to be a matter of grave deliberation,
how the interests of the industrious classes could be ef-
fectually served ; — how the tiller of the soil, the tenant of
the workshop, and the traverser of the ocean, could be
secured, each in the possession of those fruits of his labors,
which, all confessed, were most richly merited.
It is true that long before any such estimate of the value
of industry had been distinctly avowed, and long before
the science of political economy had assumed a rank
35
274 MR JOHNSON'S LECTURE.
among her sisters, there was an abundance of legislative
enactments, or of arbitrary edicts, touching the industrious
callings. But these were commonly designed to promote
the temporary aims of governments, and would never have
been enacted for the mere purpose of advancing the hap-
piness of the artizan as an important member of the body
politic.
Nor would the convenience, the interest, or the wishes,
of a great majority of a nation have proved an adequate
motive to induce the rulers of past generations to encour-
age the labors of industry.
The question with them was, how can the sinews of
war, and the means of regal aggrandizement be most plau-
sibly and with the least resistance, extracted from the hands
of industry and thrust into the royal coffers?
Each monarch, and each of his ministers, answered the
question according to the dictates of his own ingenuity,
subtilty, wants or fears ; and hence the diversity of schemes
and measures for raising revenue or for securing adherents
among the useful classes ; — useful according to the
political use which could be made of them. The arti-
zan was accordingly subjected to perpetual fluctuations
in the condition and circumstances of his life ; —
today, courted, flattered and patronized, — tomorrow,
neglected, contemned and oppressed with exactions.
Now, invited to quit the land of his nativity in order to
enjoy more of the sunshine of royal favor in a foreign
realm — then by the operation of tyrannical edicts com-
pelled to abandon his home and seek an asylum among
strangers, to create perchance after years of privation, a
new demand for the products of his skill.
But these things have given place within the last cen-
tury to a state of affairs far more propitious to the general
interests of society, more grateful to the feelings of the
industrious, and more strictly in accordance with the nat-
ural sense of justice than any which had preceded.
Wherever civilization prevails, — wherever the popular
mind has freed itself from the bonds of prejudice, there we
shall find the importance and the activity of the arts daily
increasing.
Checked, perhaps, and occasionally paralyzed by the ig-
norance of those who affect to be their guardians or by
SCHOOLS OF THE ARTS. 275
the obstinacy of those who refuse their just claims to re-
spect, still their vigor is unabated — their march firm and
ever onward.
Divided and distracted on other questions, — pouring
out, perchance, anathemas on each other's political or reli-
gious opinions, — men still very generally agree to adopt
and to continue the use of all the substantial physical con-
veniences of which science, art and fortune will enable
each to avail himself. And we need not go far to search
for the cause of this unanimity. Every individual has the
same reason for it, and he can state his reason in five
words, — " i prefer comfort to discomfort."
But what evidence have we, that the prevalent activity
in the arts has really improved the human condition?
To furnish a perfectly unexceptionable reply to this in-
quiry it would be necessary to enter into a detailed com-
parison of the circumstances under which various classes
of society have in different ages been found existing ; to
show how, they are now relatively above the condition of
their ancestors and how many of the superior incidents of
their present state are due to the modern advancements
in useful arts. We may venture to predict, that such an
investigation would end in a conviction, that the private
citizen, possessing a tolerable competency in our day, has
at his command infinitely more of the truly good things of
life, than could possibly have been procured by the nobles
and dignitaries of other days.
Take into view the food, the clothing, the habitations of
men ; the healthiness, the longevity, the intelligence of
whole communities ; witness the unfrequency in our times
of famines and their direful consequences ; the improve-
ment, even in old and long cultivated countries, in the pro-
ductiveness of those very soils which once yielded but a
scanty pittance ; the facilities of transportation, which
enhance immeasurably the value of every production of art
and labor, and the multitude of positive pleasures, before
unknown to the human race, which are now added to the
value of existence by the conquests of intellect over mate-
rial things. Bring into the account, the intimate connexion
between improvement in the useful arts, and every other
kind of advancement in society, and add, if you please, the
fact (of which I will not detain you with the proof,) that
276 MR JOHNSON'S LECTURE.
•
the reign of the useful arts is the reign of common sense,
and further, that the freedom and encouragement enjoyed
by these arts, is, in every nation, the measure or exponent
of that nation's freedom in every other particular. It is
not meant to assert that the most absolute and the most
arbitrary despot may not occasionally offer what he may
call encouragement to the useful arts. But then it is merely
the deceitful lure of patronage, a thing which, when coming
from such a quarter, is found to insult as often as it pro-
tects the object of its care. This is not an occasion for
tracing minutely the line of distinction between the ancient
and the modern policy for encouraging the arts, or pro-
moting inventive genius. Suffice it to say, that among the
means of effecting these ends, due solely to modern times,
is the plan of founding institutions. expressly intended for
instruction in practical science. You need not be informed
that the institutions of learning existing previous to the
time of establishing the modern schools of art, whether
they professed to convey instruction to ihe young or to ex-
ercise the talents of the mature in age, were far remote from
that practical usefulness which the state of society de-
manded. Not only had their pursuits no direct connexion
with the useful arts, but those who were formed by their
studies and discipline generally, regarded all contact with
artizans and their vocations, as a species of contamination,
most devoutly to be shunned. To be suspected of a
design to turn one's knowledge of abstract or of physical
science to practical account, was deemed next to the sordid
meanness of the felon or the traitor ; — and many a sense-
less sneer has been uttered against those who by word or
action manifested that they preferred a fund of useful
knowledge to the vaunted discipline of scholastic logic and
casuistical or metaphysical learning. This state of things
could not, however, be perpetual ; the increasing lights
which science, imperfectly applied, had shed upon the
condition of social life, prepared the way for the more per-
fect philosophical day. When the darkness and oppres-
sion of the middle ages had past, and men had begun to
return to sound reason, after the senseless and protracted
wars of the crusades, they felt in all its atrocity the cruelty
of that fanaticism which had sacrificed so many millions of
human beings, and entailed misery on so many additional
SCHOOLS OF THE ARTS. 277
millions, in a cause, in which the great mass of society
had no actual or conceivable interest.
Again, after that peculiar organization of society, which
grew out of the crusades, — I mean the feudal system, —
had for a few hundred years exercised its tyrannical influ-
ence on the lives and fortunes of mankind, they began to
perceive that human happiness was not the end and aim of
their toils, their prowess, and their sufferings. They felt
that pride of soul and arrogant pretension, were allowed to
reap the fruit of honest industry ; while the true benefac-
tors of society, were commonly ground to the dust, by all
the devices which selfishness and despotism could invent.
Since the eyes of civilized nations have thus, within the
last half century, been opened to the true distinction of
merit, there has been less apparent disposition to cultivate
national antipathies and to promote wars of conquest. This
age has been distinguished by a pacific spirit, and, of course,
by the cultivation of those arts which render the state of
peace glorious and happy.
In like manner, when it became apparent, from the de-
velopements of philosophy, that the beneficent provisions
of nature for the comfort and well being of man, were but
partially understood and appreciated, — when it was felt
that they who toiled in the useful arts, were in no degree
valued or compensated according to the intrinsic impor-
tance of their services to mankind, — when men became
ahve to the fact, that the soldier of fortune, though perhaps
a worthless man, was often extolled, caressed, and deified,
while the most powerful intellect, the most pure morality,
the most devoted patriotism, the most admirable skill and
patient industry, were allowed to languish in obscurity, —
they naturally sought the means of correcting to some ex-
tent this glaring injustice in the allotments of society.
From this consideration and from a laudable zeal to build
up the character of their age and nation on a more endur-
ing basis, than had hitherto been laid, the friends of human
happiness, devised the plan of diffusive instruction, and
mutual co-operation in the enlargement of intellectual
resources, among the industrious classes of society.
To perceive the important bearing of a union of eflTorts
thus directed, we may refer to the analogous but more ex-
tensive operation of learned men to promote the cultivation
278 MR JOHNSONS LECTURE. 7
of science. The difference will be, that while schools of
art are of limited extent, and are local in their nature, the
scientific association is capable of embracing whole nations,
or entire continents.
The cultivators of science, seem to have arrived at the
conclusion, that the ancient organization of societies, can
no longer carry forward the glorious ensigns of their cause.
Personal prejudices and predilections are not found to be fit
counterpoises to talent and moral worth. Those who have
no philosophical importance are not now believed to be the
best judges of scientific merit ; those who, in the character
of parasites, clung closest to men, are not in these days
deemed the most respectable orders of creation ; and the
high grounds of science are not thought to be the most suita-
ble arenas, into which pigmies should be brought to exhibit
their puny dexterity. Men who valiie knowledge aright,
cannot consent that her resources should be wasted, or her
honors monopolized, by the weak who cannot, or by the
indolent who will not, put forth an arm to sustain her char-
acter.
They are accordingly forming, or rather executing larger,
more liberal, and, we may add, more republican plans of
promoting the interests of truth.
In Germany, Great Britain, and more recently, in
France, voluntary associations have annually convened,
bearing to science the same relation, which this Institute
bears to education, to deliberate on the condition and pros-
pects of philosophy, and to devise means for its more effec-
tual and systematic cultivation. A natural result of these
united labors, is a clearer comprehension of the whole
ground of scientific inquiry, frequent luminous surveys of
its distinct fields, a facility of collecting the valuable results
of all current investigations, and the exposition of points
towards which observation and experiment still require to
be directed, or to which mathematical analysis may be
profitably applied. An incidental result of such extended
associations, is the division of labor which it introduces into
the operations of the active experimenters, the working-
men of science. The efforts of many a mind have been
paralyzed by the fact that no kindred spirits were at hand
to cheer it onward amid toilsome efforts in its peculiar
province, to rejoice in its success, or sympathize in its dis-
SCHOOLS OF THE ARTS. 279
appointments. The peculiar nature of its pursuits did not
harmonize with the prevalent habits of those in its immedi-
ate neighborhood, and it was compelled either to forego
the advantage of a social feeling, or to (all into pursuits
uncongenial to its nature.
But since a general understanding among the cultivators
of the same branch or subdivision of science has been es-
tablished, the most remote and solitary toils of every votary
will find their appropriate stimulus, in the consciousness
that a point of union can soon be found, to which the ac-
quisition made, may at once be carried, with the certainty
of being greeted with honor and reward. And even if the
narrow and grovelling spirit of envy should seek to excite
local, personal jealousies against the man of true merit ; if
petty meanness strive to wrest from the deserving the credit
of their own labors, or to throw doubt and distrust around
the lights of truth and justice, still will the noble efforts of
genius be unremitted ; still will the certainty of a tribunal
superior to the influences of detraction, impel it to useful
labor, and secure to mankind the results of its exertions.
So, too, do schools and associations for promoting the arts,
afford centres of action, towards which the ingenuity of the
artizan may direct its energy and find a reciprocation of
sentiments, or a communication of light for the guidance of
its efforts. We may indeed regard these two contemporary
forms of society, the one for advancing general science and
the other for promoting the arts which depend upon its
principles, to be most happily conjoined for mutual benefit.
So intimate is the connexion between the improvement
in arts and the cultivation of physical science, that we shall
in many cases find it impossible to separate the considera-
tion of an art from that of the science of which it may have
been either the offspring or the parent. In admitting,
however, that science has often owed its very birth to the
arts, we mean, of course, nothing more than that the latter
have discovered by practice, particular truths, which the
former has afterwards, by direct experiment, by analysis,
and by general reasoning, converted into comprehensive
laws to regulate future practice. The truth seems to be,
that art has in such cases obeyed laws of nature, before sci-
ence had discovered or announced their existence ; but, to
convert this fact into an argument against the utility of study-
280 MR JOHNSON S LECTURE.
ing the sciences, is, in reality, no less than to assert that it
were better to owe all our principles of action to accidental
discoveries, rather than to take them ready formed from
the hands of philosophy.
While the wants of society are few in number, and the
habits of men fixed, the means of gratifying the former and
of sustaining the latter, are alike simple. In this state of
things, the provision of any peculiar instruction, adapted to
qualify particular individuals or classes for the prosecution
of refinements in art, would be doubtless looked upon as
chimerical. The establishment of a school for shepherds,
an academy for fishermen, or an institute for hunters, would
be little less than ridiculous ; and were all society in this
primitive state, or were there any, the remotest, probability
that such would soon be its condition, we should think the
time required to compose a discourse on such a theme, very
unprofitably employed. Laying aside, however, every idea
that the dreams of those social reformers, who found their
expectations on a supposed retrograde movement in human
affairs, we will assume the actual and probable condition of
society, as the basis of our observations, and will endeavor
to demonstrate the necessity for schools of the arts, — we
will next ask your attention to the history of those estab-
lishments which have been erected for this purpose, — and
endeavor to delineate their character, objects and eflfects.
That schools appropriated to the arts, (by which we in-
tend at present to designate the useful arts,) those which
depend on a knowledge and application of science, are
necessary, will be abundantly evident when we consider
how intimately the arts in question are interwoven with the
great plans of social organization, and how closely the very
well-being of society is allied to the successful prosecution
of those arts to which science is peculiarly applicable. If,
indeed, all the arts were simple handicrafts, we might send
those who aspired to eminence in any one of them, to the
workshop of the artizan, and bid them glean from the rou-
tine of manual labor, all the skill which their sanguine
wishes may have prompted them to expect. And, if in the
course of events, the art which had been learned were never
destined to undergo a change, the trade acquired would be
a permanent acquisition, liable only to the vicissitudes
which affect all the great interests of mankind. But is this
SCHCOLS OF THE ARTS. 281
a true picture of the useful arts ? Is there any important
department of them in which, to insure success, some de-
gree of general science is not at this day demanded ?
Is it true, that no progress is made, no new facilities
acquired, which all, who would successfully prosecute their
labors, must adopt, or else be content to see others out-
stripping them in the extent and profits of their industry ?
Is it true that the possession of principles of science has
nothing to do with this self-adaptation to new and varying
circumstances? Or is it not, on the contrary, undeniably
true, that he only can be pronounced certainly secure of
his gains, who not only has skill in his hand, but the seeds
of other forms of skill in his liead ! But personal thrift
seldom needs more than its own stimulants, and this is
the lowest motive which should impel us to encourage the
dissemination of those sciences which belong to the useful
arts. In the desire to establish the full dominion of man
over the physical creation, to place the citizens of our
country in possession of all the blessings which nature has
scattered around them, to overcome the natural obstacles
which impede the free intercourse of the different parts of
our extended country, to make known the treasures of the
forest, the field, the river and the ocean, — to bring from
the deep caverns of the mine, the wealth of our exhaustless
mineral stores, and the no less gratifying facts of geological
science, — these, become in the mind of the patriot and
the philanthropist, motives of higher and nobler energy.
But laying even these inducements for a moment out of
the question, let us contemplate the case as between our-
selves and other nations, not in a commercial, but a domes-
tic point of view. Our admirable constitution, in its liberal
dispensation of the blessings of freedom, and of free gov-
ernment, has allowed full liberty to foreigners of every
name to prosecute among us their several plans of industry
and of profit. '1 he natural riches of our country are fully
understood abroad ; and atr.ong the nations of Europe,
schools of art have been so long and so effectually applied
to the purposes of individual and national improvement,
that the success of well instructed artizans and directors of
works, emigrating to this country is no longer a matter of
doubt. Thci/ will, therefore, prepare if ivc do not, to t;ike
advantage of the bounty of nature ; and when we find for-
S6
282 MR JOHNSON S LECTURE.
eigners alone, with foreign capital, and foreign labor, in
effect monopolizing the mines, the public improvements,
nay, the very highw^ays and water courses of our country,
we may thank our own supineness for the deprivation
which we shall suffer. To prove that this view of the case
is not fanciful, let us cast a glance at the operations un-
dertaken on our own soil. We shall find not a few of our
gold, iron, and coal mines, and divers extensive manufac-
turing establishments, directed and controlled, if not en-
tirely owned by foreigners. This is said with no desire to
create or awaken an undue jealousy towards those enter-
prising individuals, who have sought our shores, with the
purpose of reaping a share in that harvest of good which is
spread out before the eye of intelligence and industry.
We would use the fact as a motive for self-defence against
the future degradation of native talent, and the entire ap-
propriation by other than American citizens, of the richest
fruits of enterprise. And how shall this self-defence be
effected ? Certainly, by no other means than those of fair
and honorable competition, by well instructed artizans and
men of practical science. And who does not know that
such men are to be formed only by a peculiar course of
discipline and instruction, and only with certainty, in places
of instruction adapted to such purposes. That other
places of education do not, except incidentally, effect the
object, is not at all surprising, when we consider that they
were mainly intended for other purposes, — for purposes
which they are generally believed to fulfil. It is no re-
proach to a school of medicine, that it does not form law-
yers, and perhaps none to a school of theology that it
seldom or never sends forth good statesmen. Neither would
we charge it as a dereliction of duty upon a " school of the
prophets," whether legal, theological, medical, or political,
that it only by a rare combination of accidents, becomes
the foster parent of a thorough mechanist, a skilful engi-
neer, a successful miner, a good manufacturing chemist, a
discriminating assayer, an able architect, a profound metal-
lurgist, or even a productive working-man in science. But
with all these useful classes, the establishments of practical
science in Europe, will supply our country if she do not
supply herself. And the question is only in what manner,
and by what means and appliances, shall the objects of a
domestic supply be effected ?
SCHOOLS OF THE ARTS. 283
But we have other and urgent reasons, why institutions
of the nature which we have indicated, ought to be estab-
Hshed and fostered in our repubhc. And granting that
even the guarantee of national independence, did not re-
quire that the useful arts should be fostered and protected
among us, (a point which we are not now going to discuss),
is there nothing in our feelings, as men and citizens, which
should impel us to wish for their continued success ? Is there
nothing, for example, of mortified pride, in the fact, that on
the very thoroughfares of our internal commerce, in their
latest, most approved form, nearly the whole superior struc-
ture, is the product of foreign art ? Are we not chagrined
at the fact, that having gone to foreign lands to borrow
capital, we are compelled to send it back to foreign arti-
zans to procure the very materials over which the merchan-
dize is to be transported, that must repay the debts we have
contracted ; and that these materials are for hundreds of
miles in extent laid upon the surface over beds of the same
ore of unsurpassed richness, accompanied by all the means
required for their developement and preparation, and only
lying unheeded through the want of skill and enterprise to
bring them to a useful form ; and must we be compelled to
witness the moving agents, too, wrought by the hands of
strangers, and inferior to what might be produced among
ourselves, vaporing away over our meek dependence, bear-
ing along the gorgeous trains, and belching forth their
scorn at our want of self-respect, and of patriotic pride ?
Such things are in a thousand forms displaying them-
selves before us, if we will but open our eyes to their exist-
ence, and not wink in collusion at the national discredit
which they imply.
Our remarks thus far, have been confined to the effect of
schools of art, upon the arts themselves. As to their effect
upon the artizans in elevating their character, preparing
them for the successful prosecution not only of their re-
spective callings but also of all the duties of citizens, we
cannot for a moment entertain a doubt. Awaken and em-
ploy and strengthen one practical talent, and you have
done more towards making a good citizen than if you had,
without producing this result, stored his mind or his imag-
ination with all the lore of a hundred ages. A school of
arts, then, should seem to be no less important in a civil-
284 MR JOHNSON'S LECTURE.
ized community than one for literature or abstract science.
That this is not the opinion of one or of a few individuals
the progress which they have already made will sufficiently
testify.
We have stated some of the general historical facts con-
nected with the originating of schools and institutions for
the purposes of which we have been speaking. If we
would know to what period their foundation is to be re-
ferred we need not perhaps go further back than the last
quarter of the eighteenth century. Whatever institutions
had before that period been devoted to the sciences, had
generally copied with more or less precision the ancient char-
acter, and had deviated but little from the usages of past
centuries.
From the moment when France, rising amidst a fearful
convulsion from beneath that load of oppression under
which she had so long groaned, began to cast about a
scrutinizing glance at the causes which had paralyzed her
industry and cramped her resources, she found that a want
I of general information in regard to the actual character of
"iThex iriineral treasures, and to the processes, and methods to
be adopted in mining operations had made her in a great
measure dependent on Sweden, Russia and other nations
for the supply of one of the most indispensable articles of
general consumption ; and this too while iron ore abounded
in her own soil, where wood, coal, and all the means for
its reduction were in the utmost plenty. In short, she was
then in almost precisely the same situation with regard to
this product of industry, as that in which we stand at this
day. It was from a view of this particular case, that intel-
ligent men in France determined on the establishment of
an institution expressly devoted to those practical sciences
which concern the art of mining. Hence originated the
celebrated school of mines which by means of its instruc-
tions, its collections, the productions of its laboratories, and
the extensive circulation of its journal, has done so much
for improvement in that branch of art. The estabhshment
I was made a national concern, for the obvious reasons that
I the interest it sought to promote was national interest.
The impulse for establishing schools of art thus given,
was extended to various other subjects, and resulted in the
\ formation of the Polytechnic school, so much cherished by
SCHOOLS OF THE ARTS. 286
Napoleon, and which has given to France so many able
men distinguished alike in war and in peace, in art and in
science. Into Great Britain the spirit of practical scien-
tific instruction, was introduced in 1796, by Dr Anderson,
in the foundation of a class for practical men and in the
provision of means for supporting a distinct institution
devoted to the interests of mechanics. From this model
have been formed innumerable societies and institutions for
subserving the general purpose of the arts. Instead how-
ever of receiving any very efficient support from the con-
stituted authorities, they were in general left to the voluntary
exertions of those who chose to enrol themselves as mem-
bers, and sustain their share in the burthen of their main-
tenance. This has subjected them to some serious in-
conveniences. Though enjoying the vigor of popular
institutions they have also occasionally felt the uncertainty
of a reliance on a mere subscription list, for carrying into
effect the useful plans which they had contemplated. They
have also been subject to the pernicious influence of a dis-
position to narrow the limits of their usefulness by persons
who having no regard for the real interests of the artizan,
have apparently sought to mix in their affairs only to re-
strain their eflbrts, limit their instructions to a few paltry
objects, or to derive from them some support to other
institutions, which wanting a popular character, wanted
also the favor of the public.
The rapid multiplication of societies for the purposes of
popular instruction, in England, France, Belgium, and the
United States furnishes the most conclusive evidence of the
high degree of approbation with which the laboring classes
have hailed this new accession to their sources of pleasure
and of usefulness. They have also met a favorable recep-
tion in various parts of Germany and besides the " Gew-
erbverein " or Association for encouraging industry at
Berlin, we find similar institutions at Achen, Enfurt,
Goerlitz, Muhlhause, Suhl, Breslaw, Sagon, Greifswalde
and Dantzic.
It has been the fortune of these establishments to en-
counter some indirect opposition, but really to suffer from
it no material injury. Their fate has been almost the
reverse of that which has often awaited the plan of univer-
sal education by common schools ; — for while, of the latter.
286 MR JOHNSON'S LECTURE.
many have spoken as if they beheved the great truth that
our peace, honor, happiness, and national existence, de-
pended on the universal prevalence of intelligence and
good morals, they have acted as if they supposed such a
notion to be utterly false ; — whereas, in regard to the
practical sciences and the useful arts, though persons some-
times indulge a peccant humor, and make up a pretty de-
clamation against what they call studying facts, pursuing
utility, the rage for improvement, and the like edifying
topics of reproach, yet they have in general the good sense
not to adopt in practice the spirit of their own harangues.
Oh no, — they prefer comfort to discomfort.
I have referred to the fact, that by far the greater num-
ber of schools of art have been mere voluntary associations,
deriving no aid even in their establishment, from the public
resources, to which notwithstanding they so largely contri-
bute. It seems probable that a more efficient and decided
tone will hereafter be given to their movements, and that
some plan of public endowment and support, similar to
that which was so ably sketched a few years since by a
committee of the legislature of Massachusetts, will ere
long be demanded by the public voice. A central school
for each state, would thus become a point of united interest
for the public at large, and for the intelligent artizan of
every name. It is inconceivable that any doubt should
have been entertained as to the salutary effect of such an
institution, on the character and operations of other sem-
inaries of learning. In an establishment of this nature,
with which it has been my fortune to be for some years
connected, no class of the members are more constant in
their attendance or more efficient in their services, than
teachers and professors of every rank. Uniting frequently
with great numbers of practical men in the pursuit of a
common object, they derive from the intercourse, light and
information which neither books, nor solitary study nor
even the refinements of a more exclusive society would
afford.
The several objects of well-constituted schools of art are,
instruction by lectures or in such other modes as the
I nature of the case demands, encouragement to artizans by
■ rewards adjudged to meritorious productions or inventions,
diffusion of information by means of the press, and finally,
SCHOOLS OF THE ARTS. 287
the prosecution of researches in natural history and of ex-
perimental inquiries in chemistry, philosophy and kindred
subjects. On the first and the last of these a few remarks
may not be improper.
The purpose of the instruction in a practical school, it
should be remembered, is not to teach triides, but only the
principles applicable to them. It should enlarge the sphere
olTtEe student's observation, by placing around him, in well
stored collections, cabinets and workshops, the objects with
which he ought to become familiar, and with these he
should acquire by study and manipulation, a perfect ac-
quaintance. The manual labor performed might all have
a reference to the wants of the school, hence a partial ac-
quaintance at least with the trade of the joiner, the turner,
the founder and the mechanist, would of course be acquired,
and these in addition to the use of the blow-pipe, the en-
ameller's lamp and similar implements, would soon render
an institution independent to a great degree on external aid
for the supply of models for illustration, and of instruments
for research. If placed in a situation where the arts of
gardening and of agriculture can be introduced, the pursuit
of these objects for both instruction and profit would nat-
urally constitute a part of the plan. But what appears to
merit more attention than has hitherto been given to it, in
the institutions of our country, is the pursuit of experi-
mental inquiries, respecting those scientific subjects with
which the useful arts are mostly conversant.
Among the physical sciences, some are now so far
reduced to mathematical laws as to constitute almost per-
fect departments of positive philosophy. But, in order to
become practically useful, the mathematical principles
which they embrace, must be taken with certain modifica-
tions, with which, from the nature of things, they are in
practice always combined. These modifying causes are the
objects of separate and independent inquiry, and constitute
departments of special science, peculiarly interesting in
practice, and only to be accurately ascertained by experi-
mental researches. Abstract science then lends her aid to
combine the results, with her general deductions, and to
reduce the whole to a form in which they may be used by
practical men.
Some few of these once void spaces in practical know-
288 MR JOHNSON'S LECTURE.
ledge have already been filled up ; as examples of which
we might refer to the researches in regard to elastic vapors,
— to the resistance of friction, — to the rate of cooling and
other phenomena of heat, — to the best forms of bodies,
designed to move through liquids, — to the strength of
solid and of fibrous materials respectively, and the extent
to which strains and pressures may be carried without pro-
ducing permanent changes of form. These are a very few
of the cases in which it has been attempted to determine
by laborious experiment, the special laws of practical science.
But the points of absolute certainty, hitherto obtained,
are, it must be confessed, few and far between. There is a
harvest, for untold generations of inquirers yet to reap.
They have no need to wander abroad, into the thorny paths
of doubtful disputation. Let them bring sincere and un-
biassed minds, to the shrine of that truth which has been
written by the hand of Omnipotence, on every page of the
vast volume of nature, and they cannot fail to understand
her language, — a language which though to the incurious
it may seem an insignificant hieroglyphic, will one day
stand revealed to some future interpreter, who entering
Champollion-like into the great temple, shall bid defiance to
obscurity, — lift the veil of time, and read into intelligible
" phonetus " these mysterious symbols.
The vigorous prosecution of experimental science can-
not with justice be referred to a period more remote than the
age of Torricelli and Pascal, about two centuries ago. In-
deed it has been asserted that the crucial experiment of the
latter, by which lie tested, beyond all controversy the truth
of Torricelli's theory of the barometer — gave the first
great impulse to the experimental method of inquiry, since
which time the confidence of mankind in this method has
been constantly growing stronger and stronger by every
fresh evidence of its importance. To be impressed with
the magnitude of its power we need but to mention a few
facts. It had been observed at a very remote period that
amber when rubbed was capable of attracting light sub-
stances, — but no developement was given because none
could be given, to this most interesting observation, until
the experimental method of inquiry pointed the way to
those brilliant discoveries and useful applications which
have been constantly increasing in number and importance
SCHOOLS OF THE ARTS. 289
within the last seventyfive years. Again, it was observed
before the days of Aristotle, that a certain ferruginous,
mineral, then called magnus was capable of attaching to
itself, as by some invisible power, small pieces of iron or
steel. The philosophical toy of that day, has become,
through the aid of experimental science, the guide and
safeguard of the commercial enterprise and the naval power
of every nation on the globe.
And again, while the principle of magnetism was thus,
for a long period, made subservient to the interests of man,
its nature and its relations to the other subtle agents of the
universe have remained almost unknown until the same
method of pursuing philosophy, taking a useful hint from
significant indications, presented by electricity when acting
on the compass needle, has since 1820, opened one of the
most enchanting fields of both abstract and experimental
research. So that instead of regarding the globe which
we inhabit as one gigantic loadstone, it is beginning to be
doubted whether its ferruginous ingredients, have really
anything of importance to do with its directive power,
except it be to disturb occasionally the general action of
that force. This exemplifies the value of the same method
in the formation or the correction of theoretical views.
But what qualifications ought they to possess who are, by
this method to advance the limits of science ?
The prosecution of experiments with a view to practical
and useful results, requires a combination of talents and ac-
quisitions not frequently united in the same individual.
The possession of a mind disciplined and accustomed to
dwell intently on the object of its search ; a habit of ob-
serving with minuteness the incidental, no less than the
general phenomena of things ; a patience and calmness in
watching the progress of one's own labors ; a familiarity
with the mathematical and other scientific methods of ap-
plying the results of experiment, whicii may lead to the
formation of general laws ; — all these are indispensable in
one who would extend the boundaries of science. Add to
this, a mind fair and free from the trammels of hypothetical
despotism, — ready to follow truth wherever she may lead,
and willing to be instructed by facts, however contrary to
the dogmas and theories of closet philosophy. Nor are the
qualifications of mind alone to be studied in the formation
37
290 MR JOHNSON'S LECTURE.
of a good experimenter. There must be some readiness in
devising, combining, and adjusting apparatus ; some inge-
nuity in constructing, at least in model, the implements of
research which he would employ. There must be a famil-
iarity with principles that shall enable the inquirer to judge
of the proper adaptation of means to ends, so as to avoid
the mortification of failures and the loss of time and re-
sources.
In every department of philosophical investigation, the
characteristics just enumerated are indispensable, but they
become doubly important, when the purpose of the inquiry
is not so much to trace out new paths of philosophy, as to
ascertain the exact measure and bearing of those which
have already been roughly surveyed. Just in proportion as
science becomes exact and practical, does the demand for
exact and practical talents in its investigations become the
morQ urgent. How absurd then, is it, to imagine that a
corps of experimenters to prosecute difficult, and delicate
inquiries, can be called forth from the promiscuous ranks of
mankind ! and how evident is the conclusion, that those
who would make human knowledge either more profound
or more exact, must be trained by study and practice to the
duties which they would undertake. The necessity for
schools of experimental philosophy, where such practice
may be attained, is evident upon a moment's consideration.
Now it is exactly this power of co-ordinating knowledge,
of showing within what limits practice may safely rely on
the deductions of theory, to what extent modifying causes
must be taken into the account, and how far the imple-
ments and materials which man can command, are adequate
to carry out and realize the results of his speculative inves-
tigations. It is this power which alone is capable of making
available the truths of theoretical science, and this is the
kind of power which a school of arts is fitted to develope.
It is in institutions of this nature, that have been formed
the most distinguished experimenters of Europe ; and in
such establishments as the Polytechnic school, and the
School of Mines at Paris, the Royal Institution in Lon-
don, and the Andersonian at Glasgow, the prosecution of
these inquiries has conferred not less honor on theoretical
science, than benefit on the useful arts.
The purpose of schools of the arts is not, however, merely
SCHOOLS OF THE ARTS. 291
to give so much mechanical information as will qualify
men for manual toil. They have the farther and more im-
portant object of enlarging the sphere of observation and
reflection, of adorning and dignifying the character of the
artizan. By learning to bring the principles of nature and
of art to the test of experiment, the diligent cultivator of
practical science becomes habituated to regard with most
favor those precepts of moral conduct which will best bear
the same test ; and to look with distrust on those which
shrink from such a trial. If he have diligently sought truth
at original sources, at the very fountain-head, among the
works of the Creator, his mind is in no fit condition to relish
the mazy and misty wanderings of doubtful speculation.
Another point of view in which we may contemplate
schools of art, regards them as conducive to the well-being
of society, by stimulating the mind to the pursuit of know-
ledge for recreation as well as for interest, and thus taking
the place of other resorts and other stimulants, which, un-
fortunately, too often usurp possession of the bodies and
souls of our fellow men. Besides furnishing the commu-
nity with the best artizans in every department, and good
citizens fitted to serve their country in the most acceptable
manner, besides making men practical in their habits, ra-
tional in their tastes, less prone than formerly to crowd
certain professions where success is at best doubtful, and
more inclined to seek the substantial, than the fanciful dis-
tinctions and rewards of merit, they tend to the develope-
ment of the national resources, and to the cultivation of a
national self-respect. Besides proving the nurseries of
powerful intellect, and aiding in the co-ordination of ob-
served facts, they become the posts where instruction
may recruit her ranks, and where the independence of a
nation may find its ablest and most effective supporters.
^
Huv iiii Wd
L American Institute of
13 Instruction
A6k Annual meeting
183^
1833
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