is an end of that promiscuous and random choosing that the arrangement
of the Commissioners suggests and encourages. To the specification of
the five heads of natural science, it is added, that the whole of the
1,000 marks may be gained by high eminence in any two; as if the choice
were a matter of indifference. Now, I cannot think that this suggestion
is in conformity with a just view of the continuity of science. When the
sciences are rightly arranged, there is but one order in the mother
sciences; if we are to choose a single science, it must be (with some
qualifications) the first; if two, the first and second, and so on. To
choose one of the higher sciences, Chemistry or Physiology, without the
others that precede, is irrational. Indeed, it would scarcely ever be
done, and for this reason. A man cannot have mastered Physiology without
having gone through Physics and Chemistry; and, although it is not
necessary that he should retain a hold of everything in these previous
sciences, yet he is sure to have done enough in both one and the other
to make it worth his while to take these up in the examination. So a
good chemist must have so much familiarity with Physics, as to make it
bad economy on his part not to give in Physics as well. The only case
where an earlier science might be dropped is Mathematics; for although
that finds its application extensively in Physics and indirectly in
Chemistry, yet there is a very large body of physical and chemical
doctrine that is not dependent upon any of the more difficult branches,
so that these may admit of being partially neglected. But, as an
examination in Physics ought to include (as in the London University)
all the mathematical applications, short of the higher calculus, it is
not likely that Mathematics would be often dropped. So that, as regards
the _mother_ sciences, the variation of choice would be reduced to the
different lengths that the candidate would go in the order as laid down.
As regards the other sciences--those of _classification_ and
_description_--the selection might certainly be arbitrary to this
extent, that Mineralogy, Botany, and Zoology might each be prescribed
alone. But then, whoever presented one of these would also present the
related mother science. He that took up Mineralogy, would infallibly
also take up the three first as far as Chemistry. He that gave in Botany
would probably take up Physiology, although not so necessarily, because
the area of plant Physiology is very limited, and has little bearing on
descriptive Botany, so that anything like a familiarity with Physiology
might be evaded. But he that took up Zoology, would to a certainty take
up Physiology; and very probably also the antecedent members of the
fundamental group. As to Geology, it is usually coupled with Mineralogy,
although involving also a slight knowledge of Botany and Zoology.
A competent mineralogist would be pretty sure to add Geology to his
professional subjects.
Before considering the re-arrangement of marks entailed by the proposed
distribution of the sciences, I must advert to the position of
Mathematics in the Commissioners' scheme. This position was first
assigned in the original draft of 1854, and on the motives therein set
forth with such ostentatious candour; namely, the wish to reward the
existing subjects of teaching, whatever they might be. Now, I contend
that it is wholly beside the ends either of the Indian Civil Service, or
of the Home Service, with known exceptions, to stimulate the very high
mathematical knowledge that has hitherto entered into the examination
scheme. A certain amount of Mathematics, the amount required in a pass
examination in the London University, is essential as a basis of
rational culture; but, for a good general education, all beyond that is
misdirected energy. After receiving the modicum required, the student
should pass on to the other sciences, and employ his strength in adding
Experimental Physics and Chemistry to his stock. Whether a candidate
succeeds or fails in the competitions, this is his best policy.
[PROPER SCIENCE VALUES.]
Without arguing the point farther, I will now come to the amended scheme
of science markings. It would be over-refining, and would not bring
conviction to the general public, to make out a case for inequality in
the five fundamental branches. It may be said that Physiology is of more
value than Chemistry, because it is farther on, and takes Chemistry with
it; the answer is, let the Physiology candidate go in and take marks in
Chemistry also, which he is sure to do. I have purposely avoided all
discussion about Mental Science; I merely assume it as a branch
coordinate with the prior sciences placed before it in the general list.
I would then simply, in conclusion, give the _primary sciences_,
Mathematics, Natural Philosophy, Chemistry, Biology (as explained),
Mental Philosophy, each 500 marks. The other sciences, Mineralogy,
Botany, Zoology, Geology, I would make equal as between themselves, but
somewhat lower than the primaries. The reasons are already apparent: the
candidate for them would always have some of the others to present; and
their importance is, on the whole, less than the importance of the
law-giving sciences. I should conceive that 250 or 300 marks apiece
would be a proper amount of consideration shewn towards them. With that
figure, I believe many science students could take up one or other in
addition to the general sciences.
* * * * *
The other topic that I am to bring forward is one of very serious
import. It concerns the Civil Service competitions only as a part of our
whole scheme of Education. I mean the position of LANGUAGES in our
examinations. While the vast field of Natural Science is comprised in
one heading, with a total of 1,000 marks (raised finally to 1,400), our
Civil Service scheme presents a row of five languages besides our
own--two ancient, and three modern--with an aggregate value of 2,625
marks, or 2,800, as finally adjusted. The India scheme has, in addition,
Sanskrit and Arabic, at 500 marks each; the reasons for this
prescription being, however, not the same as for the foregoing.
The place of Language in education is not confined to the question as
between the ancient and the modern languages. There is a wider enquiry
as to the place of languages as a whole. In pursuing this enquiry, we
may begin with certain things that are obvious and incontestable.
In the first place, it is apparent that if a man is sent to hold
intercourse with the people of a foreign nation, he must be able to
understand and to speak the language of that nation. Our India civil
servants are on that ground required to master the Hindoo spoken
dialects.
[PLACE OF LANGUAGE IN EDUCATION.]
In the next place, if a certain range of information that you find
indispensable is locked up in a foreign language, you are obliged to
learn the language. If, in course of time, all this information is
transferred to our native tongue, the necessity apparently ceases. These
two extreme suppositions will be allowed at once. There may, however,
be an indefinite number of intermediate stages. The information may be
partially translated; and it will then be a question whether the trouble
of learning the language should be incurred for the sake of the
untranslated part. Or, it may be wholly translated: but, conscious of
the necessary defects even of good translations, if the subject-matter
be supremely important, some people will think it worth while to learn
the language in order to obtain the knowledge in its greatest purity and
precision. This is a situation that admits of no certain rule. Our
clergy are expected to know the original languages of the Bible,
notwithstanding the abundance of translations; many of which must be far
superior in worth and authority to the judgment of a merely ordinary
proficient in Hebrew and in Greek.
It is now generally conceded that the classical languages are no longer
the exclusive depository of any kind of valuable information, as they
were two or three centuries ago. Yet they are still continued in the
schools as if they possessed their original function unabated. We do not
speak in them, nor listen to them spoken, nor write in them, nor read in
them, for obtaining information. Why then are they kept up? Many reasons
are given, as we know. There is an endeavour to show that even in their
original function, they are not quite effete. Certain professions are
said to rely upon them for some points of information not fully
communicated by the medium of English. Such is the rather indirect
example of the clergy with Greek. So, it is said that Law is not
thoroughly understood without Latin, because the great source of law,
the Roman code, is written in Latin, and is in many points
untranslatable. Further, it is contended that Greek philosophy cannot
be fully mastered without a knowledge of the language of Plato and
Aristotle. But an argument that is reduced to these examples must be
near its vanishing point. Not one of the cases stands a rigorous
scrutiny; and they are not relied upon as the main justification of the
continuance of classics. A new line of defence is opened up which was
not at all present to the minds of sixteenth century scholars. We are
told of numerous indirect and secondary advantages of cultivating
language in general and the classic languages in particular, which make
the acquisition a rewarding labour, even without one particle of the
primary use. But for these secondary advantages, languages could have no
claim to appear, with such enormous values, in the Civil Service scheme.
[LANGUAGE MAY HAVE SECONDARY USES.]
My purpose requires me to advert in these alleged secondary uses of
language, not, however, for the view of counter-arguing them, but rather
in order to indicate what seems to me the true mode of bringing them to
the proof.
The most usual phraseology for describing the indirect benefit of
languages is, that they supply a _training_ to the powers of the mind;
that, if not information, they are _culture_; that they re-act upon our
mastery of our own language, and so on. It is quite necessary, however,
to find phrases more definite and tangible than the slippery words
"culture" and "training": we must know precisely what particular powers
or aptitudes are increased by the study of a foreign language.
Nevertheless, the conclusions set forth in this paper do not require me
to work out an exhaustive review of these advantages. It is enough to
give as many as will serve for examples.
Now, it must be freely admitted as a possible case, that a practice
introduced in the first instance for a particular purpose, may be found
applicable to many other purposes; so much so, that, ceasing to be
employed for the original use, the practice may be kept up for the sake
of the after uses. For example, clothing was no doubt primarily
contrived for warmth; but it is not now confined to that: decoration or
ornament, distinction of sexes, ranks and offices, modesty--are also
attained by means of clothes. This example is a suggestive one. We have
only to suppose ourselves migrating to some African climate, where
clothing for warmth is absolutely dispensed with. We should not on that
account adopt literal nudity--we should still desire to maintain those
other advantages. The artistic decoration of the person would continue
to be thought of; and, as no amount of painting and tattooing, with
strings of beads superadded, would answer to our ideal of personal
elegance, we should have recourse to some light filmy textures, such as
would allow the varieties of drapery, colours, and design, and show off
the poetry of motion; we should also indicate the personal differences
that we were accustomed to show by vesture. But now comes the point of
the moral; we should not maintain our close heavy fabrics, our
great-coats, shawls and cloaks. These would cease with the need for
them. Perhaps the first emigrants would keep up the prejudice for their
warm things, but not so their successors.
Well, then, suppose the extreme case of a foreign language that is
entirely and avowedly superseded as regards communication and
interpretation of thoughts, but still furnishing so many valuable aids
to mental improvement, that we keep it up for the sake of these. As we
are not to hear, speak, or read the language, we do not need absolutely
to know the meaning of every word: we may, perhaps, dispense with much
of the technicality of its grammar. The vocables and the grammar would
be kept up exactly so far as to serve the other purposes, and no
farther. The teacher would have in view the secondary uses alone.
Supposing the language related to our own by derivation of words, and
that this was what we put stress upon; then the derivation would always
be uppermost in the teacher's thoughts. If it were to illustrate
Universal Grammar and Philology, this would be brought out to the
neglect of translation.
[CLASSICAL TEACHER'S IDEAL.]
I have made an imaginary supposition to prepare the way for the real
case. The classical or language teacher, is assumed to be fully
conscious of the fact that the primary use of the languages is as good
as defunct; and that he is continued in office because of certain
clearly assigned secondary uses, but for which he would be superseded
entirely. Some of the secondary uses present to his mind, at all events
one of those that are put forward in argument, is that a foreign
language, and especially Latin, conduces to good composition in our own
language. And as we do compose in our own language, and never compose in
Latin, the teacher is bound to think mainly of the English part of the
task--to see that the pupils succeed in the English translation, whether
they succeed in the other or not. They may be left in a state of
considerable ignorance of good Latin forms (ignorance will never expose
them); but any defects in their English expression will be sure to be
disclosed. Again, it is said that Universal Grammar or Philology is
taught upon the basis of a foreign language. Is this object, in point of
fact, present to the mind of every teacher, and brought forward, even to
the sacrifice of the power of reading and writing, which, by the
supposition, is never to be wanted? Further, the Latin Grammar is said
to be a logical discipline. Is this, too, kept in view as a
predominating end? Once more, it is declared that, through the classics,
we attain the highest cultivation of Taste, by seeing models of
unparalleled literary form. Be it so: is this habitually attended to in
the teaching of these languages?
I believe I am safe in saying that, whilst these various secondary
advantages are put forward in the polemic as to the value of languages,
the teaching practice is by no means in harmony therewith. Even when in
word the supporters of classics put forward the secondary uses, in deed
they belie themselves. Excellence in teaching is held by them to
consist, in the first instance, in the power of accurate
interpretation,--as if that obsolete use were still _the_ use. If a
teacher does this well, he is reckoned a good teacher, although he does
little or nothing for the other ends, which in argument are treated as
the reason of his existence. Indeed, this is the kind of teaching that
is alone to be expected from the ordinary teacher; all the other ends
are more difficult than simple word teaching. Even when English
Composition, Logic and Taste are taught in the most direct way, they
are more abstruse than the simple teaching of a foreign language for
purposes of interpretation; but when tacked on as accessories to
instruction in a language, they are still more troublesome to impart.
A teacher of rare excellence may help his pupils in English style, in
philology, in logic, and in taste; but the mass of teachers can do very
little in any of those directions. They are never found fault with
merely because their teaching does not rise to the height of the great
arguments that justify their vocation; they would be found fault with,
if their pupils were supposed to have made little way in that first
function of language which is never to be called into exercise.
I do not rest satisfied with quoting the palpable inconsistency between
the practice of the teacher and the polemic of the defender of
languages. I believe, further, that it is not expedient to carry on so
many different acquisitions together. If you want to teach thorough
English, you need to arrange a course of English, allot a definite time
to it, and follow it with undivided attention during that time. If you
wish to teach Philology you must provide a systematic scheme, or else
a text-book of Philology, and bring together all the most select
illustrations from languages generally. So for Logic and for Taste.
These subjects are far too serious to be imparted in passing allusions
while the pupil is engaged in struggling with linguistic difficulties.
They need a place in the programme to themselves; and, when so provided
for, the small dropping contributions of the language teacher may easily
be dispensed with.
[SECONDARY ENDS OF LANGUAGE NOT PRESSED.]
The argument for Languages may, no doubt, take a bolder flight, and go
so far as to maintain that the teacher does not need to turn aside from
his plain path to secure these secondary ends--now the only valuable
ends. The contention may be that in the close and rigorous attention to
mere interpretation, just as if interpretation were still the living
use, these other purposes are inevitably secured--good English,
universal grammar, logic, taste, &c. I think, however, that this is too
far from the fact to be very confidently maintained. Of course, were it
correct, the teacher should never have departed from it, as the best
teachers continually do, and glory in doing.
On the face of the thing, it must seem an unworkable position to
surrender the value of a language, as a language, and keep it up for
something else. The teaching must always be guided by the original,
although defunct, use; this is the natural, the easy, course to follow;
for the mass of teachers at all times it is the broad way. Whatever the
necessities of argument may drive a man to say, yet in his teaching he
cannot help postulating to himself, as an indispensable fiction, that
his pupils are some day or other to hear, to read, to speak, or to write
the language.
The intense conservatism in the matter of Languages--the alacrity to
prescribe languages on all sides, without inquiring whether they are
likely to be turned to account--may be referred to various causes. For
one thing--although the remark may seem ungracious and invidious--many
minds, not always of the highest force, are absorbed and intoxicated by
languages. But apart from this, languages are, by comparison, easy to
teach, and easy to examine upon. Now, if there is any motive in
education more powerful than another, it is ease in the work itself. We
are all, as teachers, copyists of that Irish celebrity who, when he came
to a good bit of road, paced it to and fro a number of times before
going forward to his destination on the rougher footing.
So far I may seem to be arguing against the teaching of language at all,
or, at any rate, the languages expressively called dead. I am not,
however, pressing this point farther than as an illustration. I do not
ask anyone to give an opinion against Classics as a subject of
instruction; although, undoubtedly, if this opinion were prevalent, my
principal task would be very much lightened. I have merely analysed the
utilities ascribed to the ancient and the modern languages, with a view
to settling their place in competitive examinations.
* * * * *
[LANGUAGES NOT PROPER FOR THE COMPETITION.]
My thesis, then, is, that languages are not a proper subject for
competition with a view to professional appointments. The explanation
falls under two heads.
In the first place, there are certain avocations where a foreign
language must be known, because it has to be used in actual business.
Such are the Indian spoken languages. Now, it is clear that in these
cases the knowledge of the language, as being a _sine quâ non_, must be
made imperative. This, however, as I think, is not a case for
competition, but for a sufficient pass. There is a certain pitch of
attainment that is desirable even at first entering the service; no one
should fall below this, and to rise much above it cannot matter a great
deal. At all events, I think the measure should be absolute and not
relative. I would not give a man merit in a competition because another
man happens to be worse than himself in a matter that all must know;
both the men may be absolutely bad.
It may be the case that certain languages are so admirably constructed
and so full of beauties that to study them is a liberal education in
itself. But this does not necessarily hold of every language that an
official of the British Empire may happen to need. It does not apply to
the Indian tongues, nor to Chinese, nor, I should suppose, to the Fiji
dialects. The only human faculty that is tested and brought into play in
these acquisitions is the commonest kind of memory exercised for a
certain time. The value to the Service of the man that can excel in
spoken languages does not lie in his superior administrative ability,
but in his being sooner fitted for actual duty. Undoubtedly, if two men
go out to Calcutta so unequal in their knowledge of native languages, or
in the preparation for that knowledge, that one can begin work in six
months, while the other takes nine, there is an important difference
between them. But what is the obvious mode of rewarding the difference?
Not, I should think, by pronouncing one a higher man in the scale of the
competition, but by giving him some money prize in proportion to the
redemption of his time for official work.
Now, as regards the second kind of languages--those that are supposed to
carry with them all the valuable indirect consequences that we have just
reviewed. There are in the Civil Service Scheme five such languages--two
ancient, and three modern. They are kept there, not because they are
ever to be read or spoken in the Service, but because they exercise some
magical efficacy in elevating the whole tone of the human intellect.
If I were discussing the Indian Civil Service in its own specialities,
I would deprecate the introduction of extraneous languages into the
competition, for this reason, that the Service itself taxes the verbal
powers more than any other service. I do not think that Lord Macaulay
and his colleagues had this circumstance fully in view. Macaulay was
himself a glutton for language; and, while in India, read a great
quantity of Latin and Greek. But he was exempted from the ordinary lot
of the Indian civil servant; he had no native languages to acquire and
to use. If a man both speaks and writes in good English, and converses
familiarly in several Oriental dialects, his language memory is
sufficiently well taxed, and if he carries with him one European
language besides, it is as much as belongs to the fitness of things in
that department.
[SECONDARY USES OF LANGUAGE DIRECTLY TESTED.]
My proposal, then, goes the length of excluding all these five
cultivated languages from the competition, notwithstanding the influence
that they may be supposed to have as general culture. In supporting it,
I shall assume that everything that can be said in their favour is true
to the letter: that they assist us in our own language, that they
cultivate logic and taste, that they exemplify universal grammar, and so
on. All that my purpose requires is to affirm that the same good ends
may be attained in other ways: that Latin, Greek, &c, are but one of
several instruments for instructing us in English composition,
reasoning, or taste. My contention, then, is that the _ends_ themselves
are to be looked to, and not the means or instruments, since these are
very various. English composition is, of course, a valuable end, whether
got through the study of Latin, or through the study of English authors
themselves, or through the inspiration of natural genius. Whatever
amount of skill and attainment a candidate can show in this department
should be valued _the examination for English_; and all the good that
Latin has done for him would thus be entered to his credit. If, then,
the study of Latin is found the best means of securing good marks in
English, it will be pursued on that account; if the candidate is able to
discover other less laborious ways of attaining the end, he will prefer
these ways.
The same applies to all the other secondary ends of language. Let them
be valued _in their own departments_. Let the improvement of the
reasoning faculty be counted wherever that is shown in the examination.
Good reasoning powers will evince themselves in many places, and will
have their, reward.
The principle is a plain and obvious one. It is that of payment for
results, without inquiring into the means. There are certain extreme
cases where the means are not improperly coupled with the results in the
final examination; and these are illustrations of the principle. Thus,
in passing a candidate for the medical profession, the final end is his
or her knowledge of diseases and their remedies. As it is admitted,
however, that there are certain indispensable preparatory
studies--anatomy, physiology, and materia medica--such studies are made
part of the examination, because they contribute to the testing for the
final end.
[HISTORY AND LITERATURE DETACHABLE FROM LANGUAGE.]
The argument is not complete until we survey another branch of the
subject of examination in languages. It will be observed in the wording
of the programme that each separate language is coupled with 'literature
and history (or, as latterly expressed, 'literature--including books
selected by the candidate')'. It is the Language, Literature, and
History of Rome, Greece, &c. And the examination questions show the
exact scope of these adjuncts, and also the values attached to them, as
compared with the language by itself.