By many, education is regarded simply as the means of communicating to the young certain mechanical accomplishments, which, in the progress of society, have become essential to our comfort and success. Thus, in the opinion of one, a child is educated when he can read, write, and cipher.* To these, others would add certain higher scholastic attainments, more or less in number; and a third party hold no child to be educated, unless to what they term * The influence of this misconception on the state of popular instruction in England is thus noticed by a late writer: "In the number of schools and of pupils, our account, on the whole, is extremely satisfactory. Where, then, do we fail? Not in the schools, but in the instruction that is given there: a great proportion of the poorer children attend only the Sunday-schools, and the education of once a week is not very valuable; but generally, throughout the primary schools, nothing is taught but a little spelling, a very little reading, still less writing, the Catechism, the Lord's Prayer, and an unexplained, unelucidated chapter or two in the Bible; add to these the nasal mastery of a hymn, and an undecided conquest over the rule of Addition, and you behold a very finished education for the poor. The schoolmaster and the schoolmistress, in these academies, know little themselves beyond the bald and meager knowledge that they teach, and are much more fit to go to school than to give instructions. Now the object of education is to make a reflective, moral, prudent, loyal, and healthy people. A little reading and writing of themselves contribute very doubtfully to that end. Just hear what Mr. Hickson, a most intelligent witness (in his evidence on the Poor Laws), says on this head : 666 Query. Are you of opinion that an efficient system of national education would materially improve the condition of the labouring classes? "Answer. Undoubtedly; but I must beg leave to observe, that something more than mere teaching to read and write is necessary for the poorer classes. Where books and newspapers are inaccessible or not used, the knowledge of the art of reading avails nothing. I have met with adults who, after having been taught to read and write when young, have almost entirely forgotten those arts for want of opportunities to exercise them.'"-England and the English, vol. i., p. 186. "school learning" is added some trade or employment by which he can make a living. The great and all-important fact that a child has powers and sentiments which predestine him to advance forever in knowledge and virtue, but powers which will be stifled or perverted in their very infancy without proper culture-this fact is overlooked. It is not considered that he has a moral and intellectual character to be formed, and that this character will never reach the required excellence, unless wise principles are instilled, and good habits formed. A child leaves school without having contracted either a desire for knowledge, or a love of good books. He knows as little of his own frame, of the laws of his intellectual and moral nature, of the constitution of the material world, and of the past history of his country and race, as if on these subjects books were silent-and yet he is said to be educated! What is still more important, he has been subjected to no early, constant, and efficient training of his disposition, manners, judgment, and habits of thought and conduct. The sentiments held to be appropriate to the adult have not been imbibed with the milk of infancy, and iterated and reiterated through the whole of subsequent childhood and youth; the manners considered becoming in men and women have not been sedulously imparted in early years; nor have the habits regarded as conducive to individual advancement, social happiness, and national prosperity, been cultivated with the utmost diligence; and yet-the child is said to be educated! He knows little, and yet he imagines that he knows all or enough! "Well!" exclaimed a young lady just returned from school, "my education is at last finished; indeed, it would be strange if, after five years' hard application, anything were left incomplete. Happily, that is all over now, and I have nothing to do but to exercise my various accomplishments, "Let me see! as to French, I am mistress of that, and speak it, if possible, with more fluency than English. Italian I can read with ease, and pronounce very well—as well, at least, and better, than any of my friends; and that is all one need wish for in Italian. Music I have learned till I am perfectly sick of it; but, now that we have a grand piano, it will be delightful to play when we have company. I must still continue to practise a little; the only thing, I think, that I need now improve myself in. And then there are my Italian songs! which everybody allows I sing with taste; and as it is what so few people can pretend to, I am particularly glad that I can. "My drawings are universally admired, especially the shells and flowers, which are beautiful, certainly; besides this, I have a decided taste in all kinds of fancy ornaments. "And then my dancing and waltzing! in which our master himself owned that he could take me no farther! just the figure for it, certainly; it would be unpardonable if I did not excel. "As to common things, Geography, and History, and Poetry, and Philosophy, thank my stars, I have got through them all! so that I may consider myself not only perfectly accomplished, but also thoroughly well-informed. "Well, to be sure! how much I have fagged through; the only wonder is, that one head can contain it all.” With this picture-a picture but too just of most of the subjects, not only of what is called a fine education, but of education of every degree-the lively writer* contrasts the revery of " a silver-headed sage," who, after passing in review all his profound attainments in science and letters, and comparing them with the vast field still unexplored, exclaims, "Alas! how narrow is the utmost extent of human knowledge! how circumscribed the sphere of intellectual * Jane Taylor. exertion! What folly in man to glory in his contracted powers, or to value himself upon his imperfect acquisitions," Akin to the error just noticed is another, which makes education consist in acquiring knowledge. That no education is complete or sufficient which leaves the subject of it in ignorance is plain; and there is a certain amount of knowledge which, as it seems absolutely needful to man's highest welfare, and is, moreover, within the reach of all, so should it be considered as an indispensable part of the education of the whole people. Such in addition to reading, writing, and arithmetic, and a proper knowledge of the Scriptures, is an acquaintance with the criminal laws of the government under which we live, with general geography and history, and, to some extent, with our own physical, intellectual, and moral constitution. The grand error is, that that is called knowledge, which is mere rote-learning and wordmongery. The child is said to be educated, because it can repeat the text of this one's grammar, and of that one's geography and history; because a certain number of facts, often without connexion or dependance, have, for the time being, been deposited in its memory, though they have never been wrought at all into the understanding, nor have awakened, in truth, one effort of the higher faculties. The soil of the mind is left, by such culture, nearly as untouched, and as little likely, therefore, to yield back valuable fruit, as if these same facts had been committed to memory, in an unknown tongue. It is, as if the husbandman were to go forth and sow his seed by the way-side, or on the surface of a field which has been trodden down by the hoofs of innumerable horses, and then, when the cry of harvest home is heard about him, expect to reap as abundant returns as the most provident and industrious of his neighbours. He forgets that the same irreversible law holds in mental as in material husbandry: Whatever a man soweth, that shall he also reap. The first duty of the teacher, whether he be a parent, or hired instructer, is to enrich and turn up the soil* of the mind, and thus quicken its productive energies. Awaken a child's faculties; give him worthy objects on which to exercise them; invest him with proper control over them, and let him have tasted often the pleasure of employing them in the acquisition of truth, and he will gain knowledge for himself. Yet it is worthy of remark, that this cannot be done effectually and thoroughly, without imparting, at the same time, much knowledge. It is in the act of apprehending truth, of perceiving the evidence on which it rests, of tracing out its relations to, and dependance on other truths, and then of applying it to the explanation of phenomena and events—it is by such means that we excite, invigorate, and discipline the faculties. It has been much disputed, whether it be the primary object of education, to discipline and develop the powers of the soul, or to communicate knowledge. Were these two objects distint and independent, it is not to be questioned, that the first is unspeakably more important than the second. But in truth, they are inseparable. That training which best disciplines and unfolds the faculties will, at the same time, impart the greatest amount of real and effective knowledge; while, on the other hand, that which imparts thoroughly, and for permanent use and possession the greatest amount of knowledge, will best develop, strengthen, and refine the powers. In proportion, however, as intellectual vigour and activity are more important than mere rote-learning, in the same proportion ought we to attach more value to an education * Berkeley, in one of his queries, asks, "Whether the mind, like the soil, does not by disuse grow stiff, and whether reasoning and study be not like dividing the glebe.”—Querist, p. 140. |