A little girl, who made a study of epitaphs, was greatly puzzled to
know "where all the bad people were buried." Perhaps just as great a
puzzle to a reflective mind is, What comes of all the promising boys?
We will allow, first, that a great deal of "promise" exists only in
the partiality of parents; that a bright, intense childhood is
frequently so different from the mechanical routine of adult life that
the simple difference strikes the parent as something remarkable,
whereas it is, perhaps, only a strong case of contrast between the
natural and the artificial. This is proven by the fact that as the boy
becomes part and parcel of the every-day world he gradually falls into
its ways, adopts its tone, and in no respect attempts to rise above
its level.
Fortunately, however, the change is so gradual that parents scarcely
perceive when or how they lost their exalted hopes; and by the time
that Jack or Will has imbibed a fair amount of knowledge, and settled
contentedly down to his desk and high stool, they also are well
pleased and inclined to forget that they had ever dreamt the boy might
sit upon the bench, or, perhaps, fill with honor the Presidential
chair.
Allowing such boys a very respectable minority, and allowing also a
large margin for that unfortunate class who
"Wise so young, they say, do ne'er live long,"
there is still good reason for us to ask, What becomes of all the
promising boys?
We are inclined to arraign as the first and foremost of deceivers and
defrauders in this matter the modern educational art of _Cram_. It is
to education what adulteration is to commerce. It is far worse, for
here it is not money that is stolen, it is a parent's best and highest
hopes; it is a boy's whole future life and its success. For the system
rests upon a fallacy, namely, that it is possible for boys of twenty
to know everything, from the multiplication-table to metaphysics, from
Greek plays to theological dogmas.
To the average boy such intellectual feats are simply impossible; but
he is plucky and fertile in expedients; he is neither disposed to be
beaten nor able really to overtake his task, so he uses his brains
carefully, and makes the greatest possible show on the greatest
possible number of subjects.
Perhaps nothing in our present system of education is so demoralizing
and unjust as the custom of public examinations. In them interest and
vanity play into each other's hands; genuine acquirement and principle
"go to the wall." The teachers and the boys alike know that they are
never true criterions of progress, that they are seldom even fair
representations of the actual course of study. Weeks, months are spent
in preparations for the deceitful display; even then true merit, which
is generally modest by nature, does itself injustice, and vain
self-assurance comes off with flying colors.
The Cram teacher scatters seed over a large amount of mental surface,
instead of thoroughly cultivating the most promising portions; and he
brings before the parents and the public the few ears gleaned on all
the acres as samples of crops which he knows never will be gathered.
Yet to his own pedantic vanity, or his self-interest, he sacrifices
the prime of many a fine boy's life. Therefore we are disposed to
believe that if parents would inexorably refuse to sanction these
pretentious public displays, there would be probably a much less
accumulation of bare facts, but a far greater cultivation of natural
abilities, and a far more thorough development of decided aptitudes.
Mechanical drudgery, instead of intelligent labor, is the inevitable
method where cramming a boy, instead of educating him, is the favorite
system. No mental faculties, except the memory, receive any
discipline, and the knowledge disappears as fast as it was gained. All
taste for laborious habits of thought are lost, and if a boy
originally possessed a love for learning he is soon disgusted at what
his simple nature tells him is pretence and unreal, and judging the
true by a false standard he conceives an honest disgust for
intellectual labor, and pronounces it all a sham.
Few boys can even mentally go through a course of "cramming" and come
out uninjured. The majority of the finest intellects develop tardily,
and their superiority is in fact greatly dependent upon the staying
powers conferred by physical strength and wisely considered
conditions. There are of course exceptions, where an inherited force
of genius stamps the boy from the first and defies all systems to
crush it. But it is the average boy, and not the exceptional one, that
must be considered in all methods of education.
In this matter boys are not to be blamed. They naturally accept the
master's opinions as to the value of his plan; they rather enjoy a
neck-and-neck race with each other in superficial acquirements, and
the whole tendency of our social life supports the tempting theory.
Every one wants to possess without the trouble of acquiring; every one
would have a reputation without the labor of earning it. In an age
which prides itself upon the speed with which it does everything,
which makes a merit of doing whatever is to be done in the shortest
and quickest way possible, it is easy to perceive how a certain class
of teachers, and parents too, would be willing to believe that the old
up-hill road to knowledge might be graded and lined and made available
for rapid transit.
But nothing can be more illogical than to apply social rules and
conditions to mental ones. The former are constantly changing, the
latter obey fixed and immutable laws. There is not, there never has
been, there never will be, any short cuts to universal knowledge; and
the boy who is made to waste time seeking one will have either to
relinquish his object altogether, or else, turning back to the main
road, find his early companions who kept to it hopelessly ahead of
him. Learning is a plant that grows slowly and whose fruit must be
waited for. It is a long time, even after having learned anything,
_that we know it well_.