Part 4
There is no means, perhaps, more efficient in promoting the success of a professional teacher than the instruction to be derived from institutes, or normal schools, in which the art of teaching is made a specialty. This class of schools should be made a part of our school system. At least every Congressional district, if not every county, should have its normal school. It is only in this way that our public schools can be supplied with accomplished teachers, and be made worthy of being called the "people's colleges."
But the truth is, the masses are not as yet more than half awake to their real interests. In the cause of popular education the wonder is that educators have done so much, and legislators so little. The true educator is a philanthropist. He sees and feels that public sentiment needs to be enlightened and liberalized before it will yield its sanction to such a system of public schools as ought to be established.
In perfecting our present system, we need a National Bureau of Education, authorized to act as a central power in directing, if not in controlling, the general educational interests of the entire country. A department of this kind, it is believed, would give efficiency and equality to all public schools, and thus greatly elevate their general character. And with this view Congress should be required by the Constitution, not only to establish, but support in each of the States at least one national college; and these colleges should constitute a national university, in which the crowning studies should be natural science, military science, and the science of government.
It is doubtless true that educators have already become a power in the land. Of this fact they seem to be aware, and the danger is that their influence may be subordinated to the uses of political aspirants. Every educator has a right, of course, to express his own individual opinions; but he certainly has not the right to employ educational instrumentalities to promote the interests of a selfish partisanship, either in State or Church. Whenever it is attempted to sow "tares" of this kind among the wheat, it is to be hoped that an indignant public sentiment will eradicate them with an unsparing hand.
It is always pleasant to recall our early schooldays, with their many delightful and refreshing memories, which still linger about the old school-house where we received our elementary education,--the dear old school-house by the wayside, with its noisy group, its sunny spots, and its hours of fun and frolic, and especially its birchen sceptre, which so often taught us the "doctrine of passive obedience." It is unquestionably true that every school-house, to some extent at least, reflects its character in the character of its pupils. Hence we should not only look to the character of our schools, but should build our school-houses in a neat, if not imposing style; for they, though silent, are eloquent teachers, whose influence should create such impressions as will tend to refine the tastes and elevate the aspirations of the youthful mind.
But no system of education which is contracted, or revolves in a circle, can fully meet the exigencies of the mind, or satisfy the demands of the age. In most American colleges, as well as in the universities of Europe, a definite course of study is prescribed and made a fixed fact,--a kind of Procrustean bed on which every lad is either stretched or abridged to fit; and this is done, as scholastics tell us, for the purpose of disciplining the mind. No two persons were ever created to think, act, or look alike in every respect; nor can an educational system be prescribed by square and compass which will be alike adapted to all minds. In my humble judgment, those studies best discipline the mind which tend most to enlarge and liberalize it, and which are essentially concordant with its native powers and capacities. The course of education, therefore, which will best develop the peculiar genius, talent, or marked preference of the pupil, should be adopted so far as practicable. If a young man, for instance, exhibits a native talent or taste for music, painting, mechanics, law, medicine, theology, agriculture, or commerce, his education should take the direction indicated. If this plan were pursued in all our colleges and other schools of a high order, we should soon see, instead of here and there a star, a galaxy of brilliant men and women in the sky of our national renown, whose excellence in their several specialties would challenge the admiration of mankind.
The truth is, our modern colleges are not modern enough. They look to the ancients for wisdom, instead of seeking it from Nature and the revelations of modern science. In a word, the dead languages are studied too much; the living, too little. Next to mathematics, the natural sciences should take the preference. No man is thoroughly educated who is not thoroughly instructed in these sciences, especially in chemistry and geology. Every farmer should be familiar with agricultural chemistry, and be able to apply its principles. It is the utility, the practical good to be derived from an education, that gives to it value and solidity.
It is practical, not fanciful knowledge, which the masses need. In order to secure their elevation and social equality, every State in the Union should be required to maintain an efficient system of common schools, in which all instruction should be given in the English language, and the schools made accessible to all classes of youth, and be "good enough for the richest, and cheap enough for the poorest." In order to effect this, the system should recognize the theory as an equitable principle, that the property of the State is bound to educate the youth of the State. This principle is certainly a just one, since the man of property, though he have no children, is as much benefited by its application as the man who has children but no property, for the reason that the security of property, as well as the rights of persons and the stability of the Republic, must ever depend on the degree of intelligence possessed by the people.
In fact, each State should be regarded as one great school-district, and all its resident youth as the children of the State, for whose common education every citizen having taxable property is bound to contribute his proportionate share. In this way every child can be educated, and elevated to the social position of a true manhood; and it is only in this way that a work of such magnitude can be accomplished. In every point of view it is much wiser to educate than to punish, much wiser to build school-houses than prisons, much wiser to sustain school libraries than billiard-tables.
It is a matter of congratulation, however, that there is now much more confidence placed in the theory of common schools than in former years. In most of the States prejudice has yielded to enlightened sentiment, and the "people's colleges" have come to be regarded as the most useful and influential institutions in the land. All should be done that can be to render these schools pleasant and attractive. The school-house should be built not only in good taste, but its surroundings should be made as cheerful and inviting as possible by planting about it ornamental trees, shrubs, and flowers. Its interior walls should be enriched with appropriate maps and charts, historical paintings, and portraits of renowned men and women. In addition to this, every school should be supplied with an ample apparatus, embracing specimen weights and measures, mathematical figures in wood, together with globes and a planetarium,--not omitting a cabinet of the leading minerals, metals, and coins. Their uses and characteristics should be explained and illustrated by the teacher in a simple style of language, and in the presence of the entire school, at least once or twice a week.
Familiar exercises of this kind would deeply interest the pupils, and impart to their minds a degree of valuable knowledge which they would not be likely to obtain in any other way, and which might awaken, perhaps, some unconscious genius, who would in after-life so develop his powers as to advance the interests of science, and take his place among her proudest masters. In nearly every instance our truly great men have arisen from an obscure origin.
The time has already arrived, I am inclined to think, when there should be added to the usual course of studies pursued in our colleges, academies, and high schools, a systematic training in military science and discipline, as a means not only of physical culture, but as an easy method of fitting our young men to become practical soldiers and defenders of the Republic. We as a people, in consequence of the late Civil War in which we have been involved, are evidently undergoing a transition, which has already had the effect to change in a good degree our national traits of character. If we would have invincible men, we must, like the ancient Greeks, accustom our sons to hardships and manly exercises, give them muscle as well as mind, teach them to love and defend their country, and if need be, to die for it,--die on the battle-field,--
"Where gory sabres rise and fall Like shoots of flame on midnight's pall!"
The attempt which we are making in our public schools to educate our children in the shortest possible time is a grave error. We ought rather to "make haste slowly," if we would do the work well. A work of this character is one which requires patience and perseverance. There is no short way to knowledge, no patent right that can produce it to order. It can only be obtained by study, persevering study, aided by the patient efforts of competent teachers. It is all-important therefore that we should furnish our children with such elementary books as are best adapted to their capacities and needs, and with such teachers as are qualified to teach them lessons contained not only inside of books but outside of books,--lessons which abound everywhere, both in the natural and in the moral world. We should also furnish them with school libraries composed of standard works, and including the best current literature of the day. A library of this character should be established in every school-district, and be made accessible to every citizen. In this way, and only in this way, can the masses be supplied with the mental food which they so much need, and which is indispensable to their moral and intellectual elevation. No matter what the cost, public libraries always pay a liberal dividend in the shape of mental and moral power, if not in dollars and cents. No matter what dangers may threaten our free institutions, depend upon it, a reading people will take care of themselves.
The ancients built temples for their gods; we build school-houses for our children. This one fact exhibits perhaps more clearly than any other the distinctive character which marks the career of ancient and modern civilization, and indicates the great change which has been wrought in the course of ages by the law of progress. We may justly regard our numerous school-houses and churches as the mirrors not only of moral character, but as the safeguards of the Republic.
In the pursuit of knowledge, it is quite absurd to suppose that all high attainment in art, in literature, and in science, must of necessity be confined to the "learned professions," as they are called by way of pre-eminence. It does not matter what a man professes to know, but the question is, what does he know, compared with what he might know? There should never be such a monopoly allowed to exist as a monopoly of knowledge. The learned professions have nothing in them sacred, no forbidden fruit,--nothing more than what everybody may know who chooses; nor can there be any good reason why every employment in the various departments of human industry--every trade, every mechanic art--should not be regarded as a learned profession, and be made a learned profession, in which brains as well as hands should co-operate in achieving success and in solving new problems.
There is food for thought in every human pursuit. In order to be successful, in order to achieve high aims, the laboring man must not only think, but be capable of thinking profoundly. Indeed, every man may live like a philosopher, and be a philosopher, if he will. But no man can be a true philosopher who is not both a practical worker and a practical thinker. There is nothing the world needs more than workers and thinkers to make it a paradise. The masses are workers, and if educated, would become thinkers. It is only once or twice in a century, it is said, that "God lets loose upon the earth a great thinker." Of the past, this may be true, but not of the present. We have scores of men now living who are greater thinkers than Plato, Newton, or Franklin, because modern science has introduced them into broader fields of thought. The chemists, geologists, inventors, and discoverers of the present day have never been excelled as profound thinkers. Ours is literally an age of philosophers.
Truth, though eternal, is never stationary; nor will the law of progress ever reach a standpoint. There is always something to be done, some vacuum to be filled. It is said by philosophers that Nature abhors a vacuum. I do not doubt it, especially if it be a vacuum in the human head. It is pretty certain that the youthful head, if not filled with sense at the proper time, will soon be filled with nonsense. Neither errors of the head nor errors of the heart can be easily eradicated, when once implanted. The moral nature of the child may be moulded at will; but the cherished opinions of age can seldom, if ever, be either reversed or essentially modified. In the great battle of life our success as individuals must depend on the kind of armor in which we are clad, and the kind of weapons with which we are supplied. For effective service there is nothing which can be brought into the field so formidable or so irresistible as the artillery of logic. Intellect is always sure of becoming the ultimate victor. We read of giants in the chronicles of the early ages,--physical giants, who could overthrow the pillars of the proudest temples, and bear off mountains upon their shoulders; yet of what value to the world were their marvellous exploits, if really true, compared with the achievements of those intellectual giants who have appeared at different epochs, and taught mankind the most useful lessons in the arts, in the sciences, and in philosophy? And here let me say to the young aspirant for worldly honors that if he would achieve high aims, he must not only aim high, but have faith in himself as well as in a Divine Providence. Indeed, every man, however humble, may become great in his vocation, if he will; yet no man can become truly great who is not truly good.
So far as human perfection can be defined, it consists in the purity and sublimity of moral action,--a perfection which may be approached, if not reached, by all who are so disposed. How truly has it been said that we are never too old or too wise to learn! Nor is any man so ignorant but he may teach a philosopher something.
No matter how conservative we may be in our creeds and opinions, the world will continue to move onward; nor can it stand still if it would. The time is at hand when errors in creed, as well as in education, to which we cling, will not only be exposed, but exploded. However hopeless the condition of the masses may seem, they are already demanding more light and only await an opportunity to proclaim their emancipation from mental thraldom.
The statistics relating to the numbers of mankind, and to the frail tenure of human life, convey lessons which ought not to be disregarded in the estimate we make of what man can do to elevate himself. Strange as it may seem, it is a fact pretty well ascertained that the entire population of the globe neither increases nor diminishes, but remains essentially the same. And yet the population of the earth is continually undergoing changes from the operation of local causes, increasing here and diminishing there, as the ages advance. The law involved seems based on the principle of a just compensation for all diminution. In other words, the earth has a limited capacity, and like a cup when filled, can hold no more, yet always remains full.
When we consider the fact that one fourth of mankind die before reaching seven years of age; one half before reaching seventeen years; and that sixty persons die every minute,--we are struck with astonishment, and are naturally led to inquire into the reasons. The causes which abridge life may for the most part be attributed to popular ignorance, or disregard of physical law,--either in ancestor, parent, or child. Nothing can be truer than the fact that the "sins of the fathers are visited upon their children unto the third and fourth generation," and even to indefinite generations. It is indeed a fearful inheritance, when life comes to us tainted with constitutional disease. For this there seems to be no remedy, except in the adoption of such a popular system of education as will diffuse a practical knowledge of the laws of health.
It may be safely asserted that many people, especially in America, where food is abundant and the style of living luxurious, "dig their own graves with their teeth." Americans, as we all know, are disposed to live fast, and of course die prematurely. In short, we are a sanguine, impatient people; have morbid appetites, crave rich viands, seek wealth and office, and care for little else. In our successes we commit excesses. In the pure elixir of life we infuse drops of poison. Yet Nature proffers us the gift of long life, and waits our acceptance with a patient spirit. Though extreme longevity may not be desirable, yet many more than now do, might attain to the dignity of centenarians, if they would but live in obedience to physical law.
In the elements of his physical nature, man is truly "of the earth earthy." Chemists say that a man of ordinary size is composed of forty pounds solid matter and five buckets of water, all of which may be converted into gas. However this may be, man is a delicate piece of mechanism, a combination of divine inventions. For example, his eye is a telescope, which penetrates the mysteries of the stars; his ear is a drum, which repeats every sound in nature; his heart a timepiece, which marks, with measured beat, the fleeting moments of his life; his vocal organs a harp with a thousand strings, which is capable of uttering the divinest music.
And yet man in his moral nature, though created but "a little lower than the angels," is a profound puzzle. He advances many theories, questions even divine truth, yet believes in absurdities. Nor need we marvel at this, perhaps, when we recall the fact that mankind speak more than three thousand different languages, and profess more than one thousand different religions.
Whether regarded as a common brotherhood, or as composed of distinct races, it is evident that the human family have made rapid advancement in the amelioration of their condition during the last century, through the instrumentalities of a world-wide commercial intercourse, and the consequent diffusion of nobler incentives to action. Yet of the one thousand millions that compose the great family of man, more than six hundred millions are still groping their way in the darkness of a moral midnight, awaiting the advent of the school-master and the promulgation of a purer and holier faith. Even in Christian countries, especially in the South-American States, and in many parts of Europe, the masses are almost universally illiterate and superstitious, and have so long been accustomed to oppression that they have become quite indifferent, if not insensible, to their natural rights; nor dare they, if they would, assert their manhood.
In Italy, the land of art and of beauty, the proportion of those who can read is from twenty to thirty in a hundred, while among the inhabitants within a circle of thirty miles around Rome, there is not one in a hundred, it is said, who can read. Not only in these countries, but in more than half the globe, the masses submit to oppression, because it is the policy of their oppressors to hold them, spell-bound, in ignorance. If they are ever elevated to the social and political rank which the God of Nature designed them to occupy, it must be done by the school-master, armed with his text-books and sustained by the efforts of an enlightened Christian philanthropy. For this ultimate object God works, and man should work.
There can be no doubt but natural scenery, as well as climate, exercises a decided influence in the formation of national character. Whether we advert to Palestine, Switzerland, or New England, it is easy to discover that the mountains of these countries have by their silent eloquence inspired the masses of the people, not only with reverence, but with a love of freedom. In the sublimity of the cloud-capped mountains, they seem to recognize a divine presence which has taught them to look skyward, and to feel that they are destined to ascend in the scale of existence; while in low and level countries, especially on the plains of Russia and Asia, the inhabitants take horizontal views of things, and consequently submit to oppression, and never dare, like mountain-bred men, to break their fetters or question the decrees of fate.
The ancient Hebrews, as everybody knows, were not only brave in warfare, but were distinguished above all other nations as a reverential and God-fearing people. Their form of government was essentially theocratic. In the earthquake they recognized the footsteps of God; in the solemn thunder they heard his voice; in the lightning's flash they saw an expression of his anger; in the rainbow they beheld a token of his promise,--in a word, they were a peculiar people, who have, in the record of their experiences, transmitted to mankind a sacred inheritance.
Switzerland is emphatically a land of mountains and of heroes. Almost every hill and vale within her borders has its consecrated spots and its sanctified memories. In the recesses of her mountains the love of freedom ever burns with a pure and a holy flame, because it is a love which was born of the mountains.
In New England it is equally apparent that the silent grandeur of her mountains contributes to inspire her inhabitants with lofty sentiments, and with a love of civil and religious liberty,--a love which can never be subjected to the reign of oppression, nor be misdirected in its action, except by its own enthusiasm.
It often happens that the inhabitants who occupy distinct portions of a common country differ as widely in their sentiments as in their manners and customs. Especially is this true of the United States, where it is easy to distinguish the Eastern, Western, and Southern people from each other. It may be natural causes, or it may be local interests, that have created these differences, and marked the people of each region with those peculiar personal traits which give them character.
The New Englanders are generally characterized as sedate, formal, and puritanical, guessing at everything, yet pretty shrewd at guessing. They possess genius, are prolific in inventions, and scrupulous in matters of faith. In discussing theological questions, they split hairs; in making a bargain, they conclude to split the difference. In all things they are quick to see advantages, and apt to take advantages. In whatever they undertake, they look ahead and go ahead. In every sixpence which falls within their grasp, they recognize an element of power which "leads on to fortune;" and when they have acquired a fortune, they are pretty sure to keep it. And, as Halleck the poet says,--