Of the Course on the Obstacles and Hindrances to Education, arising
from the peculiar faults of Parents, Teachers and Scholars, and that
portion of the Public immediately concerned in directing and
controlling our Literary Institutions.
_On Parental Faults_.
When I last had the honor of addressing you, I promised that I would
endeavor to expose all such parental faults as obstruct the progress
of correct education. This promise I will now proceed to fulfil, with
only one prefatory request, which is, that if any individuals present
shall apply a single remark to themselves, to bear it constantly in
mind that such application is made by their own consciences—not by me.
_My_ observations will all be general—_theirs_ should be particular,
and should be carried home to their own bosoms and business; or all
that I shall say, might as well be uttered to so many “deaf adders,”
as to intelligent, rational, and moral beings.
Having been a parent myself for nearly forty years, and a close
observer of other parents ever since I turned my attention
particularly to the subject of education, I have much experience to
“give in” relative to parental faults and vices. Whether this
experience will avail any thing towards their cure, or even their
mitigation, your own feelings and judgment can alone decide. The
picture which I shall endeavor to draw will be a very revolting one,
although not in the slightest degree caricatured or aggravated. But
not less revolting is the sight of cancers in the human body, which
require to be both seen and thoroughly examined before they can be
extirpated. The cancers of the mind, however, as all faults and vices
may justly be called, are infinitely harder to cut out; for in all
these cases the victim and the operator must be the same person.
_Here_, according to the old adage, every one must be his own
doctor—since all that can be done for him by others is to tell him of
his malady, and to convince him, if possible, in spite of his
self-love and blindness, of its highly dangerous tendency, as well as
of its certainly fatal termination, unless he himself will most
earnestly and anxiously set about its cure. To produce this conviction
in all my hearers who need it, arduous as the undertaking may be, is
the sole purpose for which I now address you.
{437} Although the obstacles to the progress of correct views on the
subject of education, as well as to the adoption of the best means for
promoting this all-important object, be too numerous easily to
determine which are the most pre-eminently mischievous, I shall begin
with those which appear to constitute the very “head and front of the
offending.” These are created under the parental roof itself, where
the first elements of education are almost always acquired, and where
it is most obvious that _if any but good seed are sown_, the most
precious part of the child's subsequent existence must be spent rather
in the toilsome, painful business of extirpating weeds, than of
bringing to perfection such plants as yield the wholesome bread of
life. Hence, in a great measure, the little benefit, in numberless
instances, from going to school; because, the short time generally
allowed for this purpose (particularly in the case of girls) is too
often occupied solely in clearing away and rooting out from the mind
_that_ which must necessarily be removed before any useful and lasting
knowledge can well be implanted.
The first parental fault which I shall notice, is that by which
children are first affected. It begins to influence them with the
first dawnings of intellect—augments as that expands—accumulates like
compound interest, and never ceases to exert its baneful power until
fixed for life. This fault is the glaring and frequent contradictions
between parental precepts and examples, although the least experience
will suffice to convince any one who will consult it, that the latter
will forever be followed rather than the former; nor will any thing
ever check it but the fear of some very severe punishment—_the rod_
(for example) on the back of the far less guilty child, instead of the
shoulders of the parental tempter. The father or mother who calculates
on their children totally abstaining, unless by external force, from
any vicious indulgence whatever, of which they see their parents
habitually guilty, counts on a moral impossibility. As well might they
expect water not to boil when sufficient heat is long enough applied,
or dry tinder not to burn when brought in contact with fire; for these
appliances are to water and tinder what vicious parental examples will
always prove to the juvenile mind. Woe, double and triple woe, be to
those who set them, for they incur the most awfully dangerous
responsibility of rendering their children utterly worthless! I
confidently appeal, as in a former lecture, to the experience of every
one who now hears me, and I beseech them to ask themselves how many
drinking, gambling, profane, lazy, idle fathers have they ever known
whose sons were exempt from these vices? How many have they ever known
who habitually gave way to bursts of anger and wrath—to a rude,
dictatorial, despotic, quarrelsome disposition, especially in the
privacy of home, which many seem to think a suitable place for acting
as they would be ashamed or afraid to act in public, where they would
meet with somewhat more formidable checks than helpless wives and
children; how many such fathers can any recollect, whose sons did not
resemble and probably surpass them in all their worst habits? Equally
sure, too, will the daughters be to follow their mamma's goodly
examples, should _they also_ habitually display any of those faults or
vices that are calculated to sully the purity of the female character,
or in any way to degrade and render it odious. With such facts
continually before the eyes of all parents, what supreme folly and
madness—nay, what deadly guilt must be theirs, who do not avoid
setting bad examples to their children, as they would shun the utmost
extremity of misery!
Among those parental faults which soonest begin to work incalculable
mischief, is the habitual practice of talking and acting in such a
manner, in regard to the whole class of teachers, that by the time
their children are sent to school they learn to look upon the entire
tribe of schoolmasters and schoolmistresses as belonging to a class
much inferior to that of their parents, and to consider their being
placed under such supervision as a kind of purgatorial punishment. I
once knew a gentleman in whose mind these early notions had taken deep
root, who used to say, that he could never pass through a pine-wood
resembling that in which his first schoolhouse stood, without being
thrown into a cold perspiration by it. Without doubt he had been
exposed to the parental practice I am now condemning, the almost
inevitable consequence of which is, to create contempt and aversion
for teachers, reluctant obedience, distrust in their capacities to
teach, and not unfrequently open insubordination. Manners and polite
deportment are deemed quite hidden mysteries to these teachers, or
matters with which the parents never designed they should meddle—it
being frequently intimated that they never had opportunities for
acquiring the first, nor feel any interest in teaching the last,
farther than to protect themselves from injury and insult.
Awkwardness, if not rudeness also, is often deemed an almost
inseparable part of their character; and their pupils are not
unfrequently encouraged by parental smiles to laugh at and ridicule
“the poor schoolmaster or mistress,” instead of being checked by
timely reproof in all such conduct. If there happen to be the faint
semblance of a little wit or humor in these remarks, many silly
parents take the first opportunity of retailing them with evident
pleasure, even in the child's presence; and the silly delight
manifested at this supposed proof of marvellous precocity, completely
overcomes all sense of the culpability of the act, or of its very
pernicious influence on the dispositions of the child. At most it is
pronounced to be quite a venial peccadillo, amply compensated by the
intellectual smartness which it evinces. The seeds of vanity,
self-conceit, and censoriousness are thus sown in the youthful mind as
soon as they can take root, and by the very hands too whose sacred
duty it is to protect it from all harm.
Closely allied to the foregoing fault is the ever restless haste of
very many parents to make men and women of their children sooner than
nature intended. It may well be called the hot-bed system, and like
that from which it takes its name, produces plants out of season,
incapable of withstanding necessary exposure to the open atmosphere
and the vicissitudes of climate. The consequence is, that the period
of scholastic education is most injuriously shortened, particularly
for girls. The boys are pushed forward into professions, and turned
loose to act for themselves, with a mere smattering of literature and
science—often before any power for serious reflection has been
acquired, or indeed could well be formed in such juvenile,
inexperienced minds, in regard to the great, complicated duties of
life, the objects most worthy of pursuit, and the all-important {438}
principles which should ever govern them in fulfilling the first, as
well as in attaining the last. False estimates of human life,
aggravated by innumerable miscarriages in their ill-digested plans,
necessarily follow; and the poor youths are most unjustly condemned
for failure in pursuits wherein they have been either forced or
suffered from most foolish and mischievous indulgence to engage, long
before they had maturity either of body or mind sufficient to render
success even probable. They are stimulated—nay, often driven to sea,
on the vast, tempestuous ocean of life, without compass or rudder to
their little barks, and then are most grievously abused for getting
wrecked, when the pilots who should have steered their fragile vessels
had most unpardonably abandoned their trust. But should the frequent
occurrence of such a calamity create any surprise, when we find so
many, even of those who know better, so far yielding to the popular
error, as to manage their sons in this way? It is quite enough to
overcome all their wisest resolves, to be told by the majority of
their acquaintance, that “it is a shame to keep their boys so long in
leading-strings—they should be doing something for themselves.” This
sapient admonition usually settles every doubt, and the unfortunate
youths, in all the perilous immaturity of boyhood, are forthwith
converted into men, left to think and act for themselves. But their
mental outfits for so arduous a business being entirely inadequate,
their outfits of property are not unfrequently squandered, and
irretrievably lost, several years prior to the time when they could
reasonably be expected to understand their only true and legitimate
uses. Hence we have many examples of young men who have actually run
quite through their estates but a little beyond the time when they
should have been first put into possession of them, and who have lost
all respectability of character at a period when they should be only
commencing their career of active life. If these unfortunate victims
of parental folly—may I not say, wickedness—_then_ open their eyes to
their real situation, it will often be only to shut them again in
utter despair, and plunge into all the fathomless depths of
dissipation and vice, as their only refuge from the hopeless misery,
the inextricable ruin in which they too late perceive that they have
involved themselves. Hasty, inconsiderate marriages are often found to
cap the climax of all this wretchedness, by adding helpless women and
children to the number of sufferers, and thereby immeasurably
augmenting the miseries of a condition which, without _this_, would
seem to admit of scarcely any farther aggravation. A similar
catastrophe often befals our girls who have had the deadly misfortune
to be subjected to this hot-bed system. With unformed constitutions,
and still more unformed minds, they are hurried into situations where
they have to act the parts of _women_, before they are rid of the
dispositions, inclinations, and follies of _children_. They not
unfrequently marry and become mothers, while yet distant from the age
of maturity, and thus have to fulfil the all-important duty of forming
the hearts, minds, and principles of children, when, in fact, they are
little more than children themselves. Loss of life is, in many
instances, the forfeit paid for such premature marriages. But should
they escape this awful sacrifice, they rarely fail to have their
constitutions broken down, their powers of useful exertion greatly
impaired or irrevocably lost; and an early grave, often—alas! too
often, closes the heart-rending scene over these poor, unfortunate
victims of parental mismanagement, at a time when probably they would
just have reached the meridian of mature life, had they been properly
prepared for all the momentous duties of wives and mothers, before
they were compelled to fulfil them. Their helpless offspring are thus
bereft of maternal nurture, when the parent was just beginning
probably to understand what it ought to be—and how holy, how sacred
she should esteem her obligations, to fulfil it most unremittingly to
the children of her bosom. The same forcing process is then applied to
the innocent little survivors; and _they_, in their turn, are to be
married, if possible, when they should still be at school—to have the
care of children before they know how to take care of themselves—and
often to die, when they should be just beginning to live as the
mistresses of families. Boys and girls have thus to act the part of
instructers, while they themselves should yet be pupils; and the
elementary education of their offspring, which is by far the most
important part, is inevitably exposed to all the danger of being
entirely perverted, by the inexperience, the unavoidable ignorance,
and the moral incapacity of such very juvenile teachers. In regard to
daughters especially, it may truly be said, that a cardinal article in
the nursery creed of multitudes of mothers is, that they _must_ marry,
and _marry early_, even without nicely weighing moral consequences, if
it cannot be done as prudence, common sense, and correct principles
would dictate. The period for going to school is thus necessarily
curtailed within limits scarcely sufficient for the simplest
elementary instruction, that the young candidates for conjugal honors
may be pushed into general society and public amusements, which are
considered the great marts for matrimonial speculations. Now, although
marriage is highly honorable, as well as the state which _may_ afford
most happiness in this life, it is indisputably true, that it can be
neither honorable nor happy, unless very many circumstances, too
frequently overlooked or disregarded, concur to make it so. It can
produce nothing but disgrace and unhappiness if contracted, as it
often is, without affection, esteem, or even respect for the husband,
who is married merely for his wealth; or, because the poor girl has
been taught to dread the condition of an old maid as something so
terrible, that it should be avoided at every hazard. Equally certain
is it that marriage can procure no happiness—nay, that it is a truly
miserable condition, without good morals, good temper, and a tender
regard among the parties. Yet thousands of unfortunate girls marry
rather than live single, simply because their parents and other
connexions have made them believe that to remain _unmarried_, is to
become objects of general derision and contempt. Even if this were
true, as it certainly is not, surely there is no rational person who
would not pronounce such a state much more bearable than a union for
life with a man who was vicious both in principles and conduct, who
was cursed with a bad temper, and incapable of any sentiment even
resembling conjugal love. A very large portion of the miserable
marriages which we see in our society, may justly be ascribed to this
most cruel—I may say, wicked error in the parental nurture of
daughters. It is too shameful to be acknowledged by any as committed
by {439} themselves; yet there is not a person probably in the United
States who cannot cite many instances of it in others.
Another parental fault of very extensive prevalence, is their
sufferance, if not actual encouragement of an opinion very common, at
least among their male children, that it is quite manly, magnanimous,
and republican to oppose, even by open rebellion, (if nothing less
will do) all such scholastic laws and regulations, as they, in the
supremacy of their juvenile wisdom, may happen to disapprove. This has
been signally and most lamentably verified in regard to that
particular law so indispensably necessary to the well being of all
schools, which requires the students to give evidence when called
upon, against all violators of the existing regulations, without
respect to persons. How an opinion so absurd and pernicious first got
footing, unless by parental inculcation, it would be difficult to say;
but nothing is more certain than its wide-spread influence, nor are
there many things more sure than the great agency it has heretofore
had in preventing any good schools from being long kept up in a
flourishing condition, at least in our own state, where they are as
much wanted as in any part of the Union. Such an opinion is the more
unaccountable—indeed, it appears little short of downright insanity,
when we come to reflect that _all_ think it right for adults to be
punished for refusing to give evidence before our courts when
required, in regard to any breaches of the laws under which _they_
live; and yet, the same individuals who entertain this opinion, almost
universally uphold their own children in committing a similar offence,
by withholding _their_ testimony when any of the laws under which
_they_ live are violated at their respective schools—even should such
violation go to the very subversion of the schools themselves. Nay,
more—if a poor devoted teacher or professor should dare to punish
these very independent young gentlemen for such unjustifiable and
fatal contumacy, a universal clamor is immediately raised against
him—his character is instantly stigmatized for cruelty and tyranny,
while that of the rebel youths is eulogized as much as if they were
really martyrs to generous feeling and magnanimous self-devotion to
the good of others. All sense of just punishment and disgrace is thus
effectually taken away, and the young offender is taught to pride
himself on what should be his shame. That fathers should acquiesce in
the wisdom and justice of laws to punish _themselves_ for certain
offences against society at large, and be unable to see the justice
and wisdom of laws to punish their sons for similar offences against
the little societies called schools, is surely one of the greatest and
most inexplicable follies of which men, in their senses, can possibly
be guilty. Have not these last named institutions precisely the same
right and reason, that national governments have, to pass laws for
their own preservation? How, indeed, could either long exist without
them? It will be in vain to deny the prevalence of this most
pernicious folly, so long as we find a very large majority of the
youth of our country acting under the opinion of its being highly
disgraceful to do _that_ before the faculty of a college, or the head
of a school, which their fathers deem it perfectly right to do every
time _they themselves_ are called as witnesses before the juries and
courts of their country. I have said more on this parental fault than
otherwise I should have done, because I am thoroughly and deeply
convinced that there never can long exist any flourishing schools,
academies, or colleges, in any portion of our country, where so
radically mischievous an error prevails. _Our youth must be taught_,
and by their parents too, that _they_ have no more right to exemption
from the restraints of scholastic law, than _men_ have from the
inhibitions of the laws of their country—that all legitimate human
institutions have a clear, indisputable, and necessary power to make
regulations for their own preservation; that this power _must_ be
obeyed, or it is utterly useless; and that if obedience be proper,
honorable, and indispensable in their fathers, it cannot possibly be
improper, unessential, or dishonorable in their children. Let our sons
be taught _this lesson_ at home, and the absolute necessity of always
acting up to it every where, and we may then confidently hope, _but
not until then_, that all our seminaries of instruction will flourish
in a far greater degree than we ever yet have witnessed. “It is a
consummation most devoutly to be wished,” and _one_, towards the
accomplishment of which, neither time, money, nor intellectual effort
should be spared.
Another fault committed by many more parents than are aware of it is,
that either from very culpable neglect in studying their children's
characters, or from most fatuitous partiality, they often send them to
school, in full confidence that they will prove most exemplary
patterns of good principles and good conduct, when, in fact, they are
signally deficient in both. The consequence is, that should any
teacher be daring enough to communicate the painful intelligence, it
is either entirely discredited, or it comes on the unfortunate,
self-deluded parent with the suddenness and shock of a clap of
thunder. If the account is believed, the punishment justly due to the
real author of the mischief, the guilty father or mother, is not
unfrequently inflicted on the child; or, should it be deemed false,
young master or miss (as the case may be) is immediately taken away,
and turned loose at home to unrestrained indulgence, or sent to some
instructer who has more of the cunning of worldly wisdom than to make
any such startling and incredible communications.
In close connexion with the foregoing fault is one of still greater
and more injurious prevalence. It is assumed, as a settled point,
probably by a majority of parents, that if heaven has not bestowed on
_their offspring_ more than a usual proportion of brains, at least a
very competent share has been allotted them; and that they—the
parents, have not failed previously to sending the children to school,
in doing every thing necessary to enable those brains to work
beneficially for the craniums which contain them, and for the bodies
whose movements are to be governed thereby. Yet there are certainly
many children—very many, who from great deficiency of natural talent,
appear to be born for nothing higher than to be “hewers of wood and
drawers of water.” This truth cannot be denied; yet the fathers and
mothers of these children, in despite of nature, will often persist in
attempting to make them learned men and learned women. The consequence
is inevitable. An irreparable waste of time and money results from the
abortive attempt, and thousands who might have become useful and
highly respectable day laborers, at some easily acquired handicraft,
are {440} converted, by this most misapplied and cruel kindness into
ridiculous pretenders to situations that nature never destined them to
fill. This parental notion of marvellous talents and virtues in their
children—if it happen to be unfounded—and much too often it
unfortunately proves so, leads certainly to the conclusion, that
whatever scrapes the children get into at school, or, however
deficient they may appear in acquirement, when they go home, the whole
and sole blame attaches to the teachers; and the children are
withdrawn, often without the slightest intimation of the real cause,
leaving the luckless instructers to infer, that, probably, they have
given satisfaction.
Another very general and deeply rooted fault in parents, is, the
readiness with which they believe and act upon the complaints of their
children, often without taking the smallest pains whatever to
ascertain whether these complaints may not be at least exaggerated, if
not entirely unfounded. The humorous author of Peter Plymley's letters
has said—“that a single rat in a Dutch dyke is sometimes sufficient to
flood a whole province.” The idea intended to be conveyed by this, is
eminently true, especially in relation to female seminaries, where
only one gossipping, talking girl, although free, perhaps, from
malicious intent, is quite enough to destroy an entire school. Were it
possible for teachers before hand, to know the propensities of such
little bipeds, they should exclude them as carefully as the Dutch
attempt to do the small, apparently impotent quadrupeds, that do them
so much injury. But suffer me to cite some instances to sustain my
opinion. Let us suppose, for example, that the grievance complained of
is partial treatment. To say nothing of the difficulty of proving a
negative, or of disproving, even when heard, a charge which covers so
much ground, and which is rarely suffered to reach the teacher's
ears—it is perfectly easy to demonstrate, that it _may_, and often
_will_ be made, without the shadow of truth. When to this is added,
its utter incompatibility with that portion of common sense, which all
instructers, who are not miserable drivellers, must possess, and which
they, of course, will exercise, in comparing their infinitely small
and doubtful gains, with their great and certain loss by such
injustice towards the complainants, (putting all principles of honor
and public pledges out of the question,) the accusation ought to
appear in most cases, past all rational credibility. But let us return
to the proof, that the charge of partiality _may_ and _will_ often be
made without the shadow of truth. It is a thing which deeply concerns
_all schools_, and is therefore a subject of common and vital
interest—both to them and to the public. None have so little
experience as not to know, that among the scholars of every school
there will be irregularities of conduct with corresponding
inequalities in talent, application, and acquirement, and that the old
adage, that “one man can carry a horse to water, but that four and
twenty can't make him drink,” is equally true in a figurative sense as
to children at school. Hence, some pupils go on very successfully,
without punishment of any kind, while others not unfrequently require
it in all its most effective forms. This equitable and obviously
necessary difference in treatment, between offenders and
non-offenders, is always sensibly felt by the culprits
themselves—often deeply resented; the true cause of it, rarely well
understood, and still more rarely acknowledged or explained,
especially to parents and guardians: for self-accusation is least apt
to be made by those who most frequently commit acts that should
produce it. Much the most common course among the violators of any
moral law or obligation whatever, whether they are children or adults,
is to seek refuge from the consciousness of one fault, in the
commission of some other—which other, generally, is, to shift the
blame, if possible, from themselves. That humble, contrite,
self-abasing spirit which caused the prodigal son to exclaim—“Father,
I have sinned against heaven and thee, and am no more worthy to be
called thy son,” is hardly to be expected, in any great degree, among
children at school: yet they _should_ possess it, before their parents
ought to rely on their competency to judge and decide in their own
cases, whether _they_ or _their teachers_ are in the wrong—cases too,
wherein it is perfectly obvious, that if the teachers are the
offending party, they must have become so in opposition to their best
interests. From the foregoing considerations, it is manifest, that
among such children at school as are justly reproved or punished for
misconduct, unjust complaints of partiality in the teachers will
frequently arise; and that these will often be too readily credited,
without any investigation, or even the slightest hint to the persons
thus secretly accused, of what has been alleged against them. In all
such cases a withdrawal of the pupils almost certainly follows,
succeeded by abuse of the schools, which often becomes the more bitter
and inveterate, from the parents themselves having an unacknowledged
conviction, that _they are the injurers_, instead of the _injured
party_. With all such persons the self-applied cure for the
mortification arising from incurable dullness, or depravity in their
children, is to slander their teachers wherever it can safely be done.
Another proper and necessary difference in the scholastic treatment of
children proceeds from difference of age. But most unluckily, it
sometimes happens, that very young little masters and misses expect to
be treated like grown up young gentlemen and ladies; and should such
very rational expectations be disappointed, as they most assuredly
should be, these premature aspirants to the privileges and immunities
of manhood and womanhood, take most grievous and unappeasable offence
at it. Heavy, but vague complaints of partial treatment follow of
course; parental tenderness is naturally excited; parental credulity
lends too easy credence to the tale of juvenile woe; and a change of
school is the frequent consequence, without the really innocent
teachers even suspecting that any such cause could possibly have
produced it.
Another most extensively pernicious fault in parents, is the
incompatible expectations formed of what teachers can do, with the
practice of treating them, and speaking of them, as scarcely above the
menial class of society. The expectations of many fathers and mothers
would appear to be something not very far from a belief, that
instructers are masters of some wonder-working process which can
inspire genius where it never existed; give talents that nature has
withheld; correct in a few weeks or months every bad habit, however
long indulged; and force knowledge into heads, pertinaciously
determined to reject, or so constructed as to be incapable of
receiving it. The general conduct towards such intellectual magicians,
where consistency is at all regarded, should {441} certainly be, at
least, to place them on a footing of perfect equality with the members
of the most esteemed professions in society. But what is the fact?
Why, that schoolmasters and schoolmistresses are viewed by multitudes
of those who arrogate the right to decide, as a class of persons,
essentially vulgar and awkward in their manners; ignorant of the
world; of low, grovelling, selfish principles, and nearly incapable of
any of those feelings and high sense of honor which are claimed, as a
kind of inalienable property by all who believe, (and there are
thousands of such individuals,) that wealth and worldly distinctions
authorize them to be proud, arrogant, and contemptuous towards all who
are deficient in the gifts of fortune. It is not easy to trace this
opinion respecting teachers to its source, because one would think
that the least pittance of common sense would teach parents the
impossibility of their children ever being well taught by any persons
for whom they felt no respect, and the equal impossibility of
respecting those whom their parents evidently despised. Two causes
probably may have produced this mischievous variance between the
conduct of parents towards instructers, and the momentous duties which
these last are expected to fulfil. First, that many who have taken
upon themselves the profession of teachers, have neither the talents,
the knowledge, the temper, nor the manners necessary to discharge its
numerous and arduous duties; and secondly, that the pride of wealth,
which generally indulges itself in an exemption from bodily and mental
labor, naturally seeks to dignify its idleness by assuming a
superiority over all who work either with their hands or their head.
But be the origin what it may, the cause of education is most
injuriously affected by it.
Another parental fault is, the interference both as to matter and
manner in which children are to be taught; and this is sure to be
committed in proportion to the self-conceited competency, but real
inability of the advising, or rather commanding party. Let a single
exemplification suffice, out of very many others I could give of this
most ridiculous, but very pernicious fault. I select it because it is
one of those occurrences in the “olden time,” the relation of which
can hurt the feeling of none, but may afford a useful lesson to many.
My informant told me, that many years ago he knew a lady who could
barely read and write, to carry a little girl whose acquirements
extended not much farther than her own, to a school conducted by a
gentleman well qualified for his profession. She announced herself, as
having brought to him a pupil, who was immediately to be taught some
half dozen sciences, the names of which she had somewhere picked up,
but could scarcely pronounce; and that “he must make haste to do it,
as the little miss had not much more than a year, if that, to go to
school.” I was not told whether or not the teacher laughed in her
face, but if he refrained he must have had much more than common
control over his risible muscles. “It was enough,” (as the hero of
Cherubina says,) “to make a tiger titter.” This most compendious way
of manufacturing learned young masters and young misses, when viewed
in its effects upon the great interests of our community—upon the
happiness of families, as well as of the nation at large, is enough to
sicken the heart of any person capable, even in a moderate degree, of
serious reflection. Numerous instances have I known, in my limited
sphere of observation, especially in female schools, where, just as
the pupils had acquired a taste for reading, and were beginning to
make good progress in their studies, they were hurried away, and
plunged headlong into the vortex of gay, pleasure-seeking company,
there to lose—far more rapidly than it was gained—all desire, all
anxiety for intellectual culture. Books, together with all the useful
lessons they are calculated to impart; the whole long-labored scheme
of moral instruction, from which so much good had been anticipated;
the anxious preparation for a life of active beneficence, are all
forgotten or neglected, for constantly recurring schemes of frivolous
gaiety, and utter idleness in regard to all really useful pursuits.
The only subject of intense interest which seems to occupy these
fanatic devotees of worldly pleasure, is _marriage_; and provided they
can succeed in procuring a wealthy husband for their daughters, all
other matters are deemed of very subordinate importance. After the
teachers of these unfortunate girls may have been laboring for years
to convince them that the value of eternal things is immeasurably
greater than that of any merely temporal things whatever, they are to
be “finished off,” (as it is called) in the school of the world, where
all these calculations are utterly reversed, and present objects alone
are made to occupy all their thoughts and time.
Another fault of parents, and I may add guardians too, is to be led
away by mere reports in regard to the character of schools and their
teachers, without always inquiring for themselves, as they should do
where possible, minutely into both. Thus, it often happens that,
governed entirely by rumor not to be traced to any authentic source,
all will be anxiously hurrying to secure places for their children in
schools said to be already full to overflowing, so that no more can
possibly get in; while schools of equal merit are carefully avoided,
because the same common untraceable rumor proclaims that they are
losing all their scholars; which, if not true at the time, soon
probably becomes so, from the capricious love of change, and the
desire to get their children's brains swept by the new broom, or from
the common habit of ascribing all removals of pupils from any schools
whatever, to incompetency or misconduct in the teachers. These ebb and
flood tides of popularity often happen to the same schools, without
any change whatever in the schools themselves, except increased
fitness in the teachers, from additional experience. A signal instance
of this fell under my observation, many years ago, in the case of a
long established, highly respectable, but no longer existing city
school. This institution, after maintaining very deservedly a high
character for many years, was literally stripped almost entirely naked
of pupils, by some utter strangers, who, although possibly as
meritorious, were certainly not known to be so, by a single individual
of the whole number that immediately sent scholars to them. It is
true, that the old school, after the public imagination had time to
sober a little, somewhat recovered from the shock, although never
sufficiently to regain its former standing. What is called
“_patronage_,” had fled from its walls, which were soon entirely
deserted, and answered little other purpose than to present another
striking monument of public caprice, fickleness, and folly. This case
is cited from no invidious motive {442} whatever—both schools having
long ceased to exist; but it furnishes a most striking proof of the
existence, as well as of the pernicious effects of the last parental
fault noticed. As a necessary consequence of this fault, comes the
frequent changes made from school to school, often without any
assignable cause, but the mere love of novelty; or some secret, but
unfounded dissatisfaction imbibed from the _ex parte_
misrepresentation of the children, most carefully concealed from the
teachers themselves. If the matter ended here, it might not do more
harm than occasion the loss of the particular pupils to the offending
teachers; but the fancied injury, although never communicated to the
person chiefly interested in removing the unfounded imputation, is, in
general, the more diligently made known to others. With all these, the
characters of the teachers are deeply injured, if not entirely ruined,
without the possibility of a vindication, from utter ignorance of its
being any where necessary. Persons who are thus regardless of what
they say of schools and their conductors, and who are so careless as
to the sources from which they seek a knowledge of their characters,
are liable to be greatly deceived, even when making inquiries, in a
manner that appears to them most likely to obtain correct information.
Thus, in the opinion of these precipitate and reckless judges, it is
at once concluded, that if an individual of their acquaintance has
merely been _at_ any particular school, whether in casually passing or
specially to see it, this person must necessarily be well qualified to
tell, describe, and explain every thing about it; and therefore, that
the sentence of approval or condemnation produced by this off-hand
judge, must be decisive, although it may go no farther than a simple
“_ipse dixit_”—“he or she said it.” Details are rarely, if ever asked
by such inquirers, (for I have often witnessed their method of
proceeding) but the mere opinion of the informant, for or against the
school, is deemed all sufficient; the brief assertion, “I've no notion
of it,” or “I like it mightily,” settles the question. It seems never
to be even suspected, that to form a just and impartial judgment in
regard to the merits or demerits of any school, requires much more
time, learning, knowledge of the principles and management of schools
in general, acquaintance with the various modes of instructing youth,
but, above all, more power of discrimination than most persons
possess. Hence, the characters both of schools and teachers, are
generally at the mercy of individuals extremely incompetent to
determine what they really are.
Another common fault with many parents and guardians, has always
reminded me of the old miser who inquired of his merchant for a pair
of shoes, that must be at once “very neat, and strong, and fine, and
cheap.” They confound together cheapness and lowness of price,
although no two things generally differ more widely; and hence they
always endeavor to purchase their schools as they do their
merchandise. It is certainly true that a _high_ price does not
necessarily make either schools or merchandise of good quality; but it
is equally true, that a _low_ price can never have any such effect.
The principle of equivalents must be alike consulted in both cases, or
no fair, equitable bargain can be made, either for bodily or mental
apparel. If much is required, much must be given, provided both
parties are free to give and take; and those who act upon different
principles—be they parents, guardians, or teachers, deserve to _be_,
and generally _are_, utterly disappointed.
There is another fault which I will here mention—not on account of any
connexion with that just noticed, but because the recollection of it
has just presented itself. It is of most fearful import, for I verily
believe it to be the foundation of most of the infidelity which
prevails among the youth of our country. I mean, the neglect of
parents to require their children to seek religious instruction by
constant attendance at places of religious worship—places where _they
themselves_, if professors of religion, deem it _their_ sacred duty to
attend. They require—nay, insist upon these children seeking
classical, scientific, and literary knowledge by attending schools and
colleges; how then can they possibly justify, or even excuse their
attendance at church, not being at least equally insisted upon. They
themselves, unless hypocrites, must deem religious knowledge far more
important than all other kinds united. To leave their children then,
at full liberty to seek or not to seek it, and to coerce them in
seeking these other kinds, is to act, not only inconsistently and
foolishly, but wickedly.
One of the greatest and most pernicious faults of all, I have reserved
for the last to be noticed. It is the utter indifference which, not
only parents and guardians but all other persons except the
instructors themselves, appear to feel for the reputation of schools
and their particular conductors, although this reputation is really a
matter of the deepest interest to the whole community. Of these
institutions and their managers, it seems in an especial manner, and
most emphatically true, that “what is every body's business is no
body's business.” Slander and its effects may certainly be called
_every body's business_, since all are exposed to it; yet no
individual appears to think it his own, or likely to be so, until it
touches his own dear self, although one of the best modes of
protecting himself from it, most obviously is—to manifest, on all
occasions, a readiness to protect others. But while men remain so
prone to believe ill, rather than good, of their fellow creatures, and
are too regardless of any reputations but their own, it is hardly to
be expected, that so long as they themselves are safe, much care will
be felt whether the persons assailed, are openly or secretly attacked,
or whether they have opportunities to defend themselves or not. Hence,
there are no courts in the world that exercise a more despotic,
reckless sway, than what may justly be called _courts of defamation_;
the only qualifications for which are, a talent and love for malignant
gossipping. Even the tribunals of the inquisition make a pretence at
justice, by calling the accused before them; but the self-constituted
inquisitors of reputation, who often, in the course of their various
sessions, sit upon schools and their conductors, disdain to use even
the mockery of a trial. With them, to try, to condemn, and to execute
the character, while the body is absent, constitute but one and the
same act; and like so many grand sultans, whose power is supreme,
whose word is law, and whose arguments are the scimitars and
bow-strings of death, they are alike uncontrolled and uncontrollable
by any considerations even approaching towards truth and justice. If
defamation never meets with any thing to check it but the unheeded,
unavailing complaints of the immediate sufferers from its diabolical
spirit, it will {443} continue greatly to impair, if it does not
utterly destroy one of the most copious sources of human happiness—I
mean, the heart-cheering confidence, that all will acquire fair
reputations by always acting in a manner to deserve them, and that
nothing can bereave them of this inestimable blessing, but actual
misconduct. It is true, that our laws hold out something like a remedy
for slander by known individuals. But what is this remedy? While
house-breaking and house-burning have often been made punishable by
death—_character-breaking and burning_ have met with no other legal
corrective than pecuniary fines, and these too, dependent on
enactments hard to be applied to any particular case, and upon the
capricious, ill-regulated, not to say, prejudiced, judgments of
others. To mend the matter, public opinion generally attaches no small
disgrace to the seeking this species of redress; as if to sue for
damages to character, implied, on the part of woman, some strong
probability of guilt, and on the part of man, a great presumption both
of guilt and cowardice. Against the effect of inimical motives,
calumnious opinions, and their underhand circulation, no law affords
any protection whatever. These matters are entirely beyond the reach
of all legislation, and unless they can be cured by moral instruction,
moral discipline, and such a public sentiment as will keep alive in
every bosom a strong sense of our obligations always to judge
charitably and justly of each other, the members of our society, one
and all, must still live exposed to this deep and deadly curse of
secret defamation. Such is the baneful nature of this deplorable evil,
that to fear or despise will only serve to aggravate it—while to live
above it, although very comfortable to our consciences, can never
entirely prevent the injuries it often has the power of inflicting
upon even the best of mankind. The disastrous effects of it upon
education, so far as this depends upon scholastic establishments, are
incalculable; for although some particular schools might rise or fall
a sightless distance above the hopes of their most sanguine
friends—below the wishes of their bitterest enemies—without materially
affecting the general cause of instruction; yet that cause cannot
possibly flourish—cannot even approach its maximum of general good,
without far greater protection from public sentiment. It _must_
protect, and with parental solicitude too, the reputation both of
teachers and schools, or none whatever, even the best, can be secure
of a twelve months' existence. None can possibly last, unless all who
have any power of giving the tone and character of public opinion,
will unite in marking with the severest reprobation the kind of spirit
which so frequently gives birth and circulation to the numerous,
unfounded calumnies we so often hear against the very best of them;
calumnies too, to the greedy swallowing of which, it forms no
objection with many, that they have no authors who have hardihood
enough to avow them. But the same violent spirit which ruins some
schools by calumny, often exerts itself with so little judgment as to
destroy others by intended kindness. Thus, the same tongues which will
persecute particular schools in secret—“even unto death,” will praise
and puff others so immeasurably, as to excite against them that never
dying envy and animosity, which is always roused to action by high
seasoned commendation of others. These headlong, unreflecting puffers,
are either utterly ignorant, or entirely forget that the world is
still full of people who are brothers and sisters, at least in
feeling, to that Athenian who voted to banish Aristides, (whom he
acknowledged he did not know,) solely, as he declared—“_because he was
weary and sick at heart, on hearing him every where called the Just_.”
The foregoing faults, as far as I can recollect, are the chief and
most pernicious of those which attach particularly to parents and
guardians. But there are many others to which they are parties, either
as principals or accessaries with that great and complicated mass of
human beings, which, when considered in the aggregate, constitute what
is called—“_the public_.” These often form themselves into large
subdivisions, arrayed against each other with all the bitter animosity
of partizan hostility, as the assailants and defenders of particular
schools; without appearing, for a moment to reflect, that complete
success to either party must sweep from the face of the earth one half
of the existing schools, although it is manifest to all who will look
soberly at our present condition, that the supply of good schools,
still falls very far short of the demand. But if this exterminating
war between the partizans and enemies of schools in general is never
to cease, would it not be far better for the world, if all the schools
in it, with their friends and enemies, were crushed together in one
promiscuous mass—that some new, and, if possible, better road might be
opened to science, literature and religion?
In education there should be, in reality, _but one party_—(if I may be
allowed to say so) that of knowledge and virtue; _but one object_, and
that object _human happiness_. Until this principle can be universally
established and acted upon—until the class of instructers shall not
only be held in higher estimation, but be more secure of being
protected by public sentiment, from unmerited obloquy and secret
detraction, thousands of those who are most capable of fulfilling all
the momentous duties of teachers, will shrink entirely from so
thankless, so discouraging an occupation. It is true, that even under
present circumstances, we have the appearance of much good resulting
from the various attempts to educate the rising generation; but no
very extensive advantage—no permanent benefit, at all commensurate to
the wants and wishes of our thirteen millions of people, can possibly
result from them while things remain exactly as they are. This is not
the worst consequence of such a state of public sentiment—for, not
only will the accessions of highly qualified persons to the class of
instructers be much fewer, but those already belonging to it, will
either abandon it, or, perceiving that the privilege of teaching is
usually let to the lowest bidder, and that their profession is
generally treated as an inferior one, having few claims to generous
sympathy, and none to that respect and esteem which would bear them
harmless, at all times, against all suspicions of meanness and
servility, will insensibly contract the spiritless, submissive
feelings which they find are commonly supposed to belong to their
situation. Seeing also that a spirit of independence—a nice,
high-minded sense of honor, are deemed by many, sentiments of much too
exalted a grade for those who follow such a calling, their principles
are always in danger of sinking to the level of such a standard,
however arbitrary and unreasonable may have been its establishment.
Woe to the unlucky {444} wight of a schoolmaster or schoolmistress who
happens to be gifted with so rebellious a heart, as to betray any
feeling, even approaching to indignant resentment, for such treatment!
Silence is their true policy, for it will be considered his or her
humble duty; and silence must be kept, cost what it may, unless they
are prepared to encounter the worst consequences of derision, scorn,
or deprivation of what is called _patronage_.
It is readily admitted, that persons of this profession are more
highly estimated than they were forty or fifty years ago; for I
distinctly recollect the time when all I have said of the degrading
treatment of teachers generally, both by parents and others, was
literally true; when to the question, “who is such a one?” the common
reply was, “oh, nothing but a schoolmaster or schoolmistress;” and
when they were all commonly viewed precisely as we might imagine from
such an answer. But although they have, of late years, been elevated a
spoke or two higher up the ladder of respectability, still they are
not admitted to a level with several other classes, whose real claims
to superiority have no better foundation than their own silly,
groundless pride.
The following extract from the London Examiner affords a striking
proof that what I have affirmed of the public sentiment relative to
the class of teachers in the United States, is true to a still more
pernicious extent in Great Britain.
The author remarks, “A trust is generally accounted honorable in
proportion to its importance, and the order of the qualities or
acquirements requisite to the discharge of it. There is, however, one
striking exception to this rule in the instance of the instructers of
youth, who, specially appointed to communicate the knowledge and
accomplishments which may command respect in the persons of their
pupils, are, in their own, denied every thing beyond the decencies of
a reluctantly accorded civility, and often are refused even those
barren observances. The treatment which tutors, governesses, ushers,
and the various classes of preceptors, receive in this boasted land of
liberality, is a disgrace to the feelings, as well as to the
understanding of society. Every parent acknowledges that the domestic
object of the first importance is the education of his children. In
obtaining the services of an individual for this purpose, he takes
care to be assured” (not always so with us) “that his morals are good
and his acquirements beyond the common average—in nine hundred and
ninety-nine cases out of a thousand, we may add, beyond those which he
himself possesses, and on which he sufficiently prides himself. When
he has procured such a man as he believes this to be, he treats him
with perhaps as much courtesy as his cork-drawer, and shows him less
favor than his groom. The mistress of the family pursues the same
course with the governess which the master adopts towards the tutor.
The governess is acknowledged competent to form the minds and manners
of the young ladies—to make, indeed, the future women: but of how much
more consequence in the household is she who shapes the mistresses
caps, and gives the set to her head-dress—the lady's maid! The unhappy
teachers in almost every family are only placed just so much above the
servants as to provoke in them the desire to pull them down—an
inclination in the vulgar menials which is commonly encouraged by the
congenial vulgar and jealous pride of the heads of the house,
impatient of the intellectual equality or superiority which they have
brought within their sphere. The remark, however, does not apply to
the narrow-minded only. All of us regard too lightly those who make a
profit of communicating what all of us prize, and what we know
entitles us to respect when we possess it. Some carry their neglect or
contempt farther than others, but all are, in a greater or less
degree, affected by the vicious standard of consideration common in
the country. The instructers of youth serve for low wages; _that_ is a
sufficient cause for their being slighted, where money puts its value
upon every thing and being. The butler and groom, indeed, serve for
less than the tutor; but, beside the lowness of price, there is
another peculiar ingredient in the condition of the last, which is,
the accompaniment with it of a claim to respect on the score of a
requital. It is this very claim, so ill-substantiated in hard cash,
the secret force of which wounds the self-love of purse-proud
nothingness, which sinks the poor tutor in regard below the man of
corks or currycombs. We will not deny, too, that there are families in
which the care of wine and the training of horses are really
_accounted_, although _not confessed_, of superior importance to the
care and training of youth. These are extreme cases, however, which we
would not put. The common one is that of desiring and supposing every
thing respectable in the preceptor, and denying him respect—of
procuring an individual to instil virtue and knowledge into the minds
of youth, and showing them, at the same time, the practical and
immediate example of virtue and knowledge neglected or despised in
_his_ person. How can a boy (and boys are shrewd enough) believe that
the acquirements, the importance of which is dinned in his ears, are
of any value as a means of commanding the respect of the world, when
he witnesses the treatment, the abject social lot of the very man,
who, as best stored with them, has been chosen his instructer? Will he
not naturally ask, how can these things obtain honor for me which do
not command even courtesy for him who is able to communicate them to
me?”
We remember, in a little volume treating on instruction, to have seen
this anecdote:
“A lady wrote to her son, requesting to look out for a young lady,
respectably connected, possessed of various elegant accomplishments
and acquirements, skilled in the languages, a proficient in music, and
above all, an unexceptionable moral character—and to make her an offer
of 40_l._ a year for her services as a governess. The son's reply
was—‘My dear mother, I have long been looking out for such a person as
you describe, and when I have the good fortune to meet with her, I
propose to make her an offer—not of 40_l._ a year, but of my hand, and
to ask her to become—not your governess, but my wife.’”
Such are the qualities expected or supposed in instructers; and yet,
what is notoriously their treatment?
I will here end this long and painful catalogue of parental faults,
and shall devote the next lecture to the faults of teachers—merely
remarking, in conclusion, that my sole undertaking being to point out
things which require reformation, I shall present no favorable views
of the various parties concerned in the great work of education,
although many very animating ones might {445} be given. To aid in
removing the numerous obstacles which so fatally impede its progress,
being my only purpose, I would fain render the nature of them as
odious as possible, believing this to be the best means of
accomplishing the great end in view.
May the moral mirror which I have endeavored to present to all parents
and guardians who may now hear me, enable them so to see and to study
their own peculiar faults as speedily to correct them.