scientific compilations by a conjunction of highly accomplished editors.
A new edition of Quain's Anatomy, revised and brought up to date by the
best anatomists, would, for the moment, probably be fully adequate to
the wants of the student, and dispense with all other references
whatsoever. Not that even then, it would be desirable to abstain from
ever opening a different compendium; although undoubtedly there would be
the very minimum of necessity for doing so. Nevertheless, literature
presents few analogous instances. One of the great works of an original
genius, like Aristotle, might, by profuse annotation, be made nearly
sufficing; but this is another way of reading by quotation a plurality
of writers; and it would be better still to peruse some of these in
full, there being no need for studying them with the degree of intensity
bestowed on a main work.
[LOCKE'S TREATMENT OF THE BIBLE.]
The example, by pre-eminence, of one self-sufficing work is the Bible.
Being the sole and ultimate authority of Christian doctrine, it holds a
position entirely apart; and, among Protestants at least, there is a
becoming jealousy of allowing any extraneous writing to overbear its
contents. Yet we are not to infer, as many have done practically, that
no other work needs to be read in company with it. Granting that its
genuine doctrines have been overlaid by subsequent accretions, the way
to get clear of these is not to neglect the entire body of fathers,
commentators, and theologians, and to give the whole attention to the
scriptural text. Locke himself set an example of this attempt. He
proposed, in his "Reasonableness of Christianity," to ascertain the
exact meaning of the New Testament, by casting aside all the glosses of
commentators and divines, and applying his own unassisted judgment to
spell out its teachings. He did not disdain to use the lights of
extraneous history, and the traditions of the heathen world; he only
refused to be bound by any of the artificial creeds and systems devised
in later ages to embody the doctrines supposed to be found in the Bible.
The fallacy of his position obviously was, that he could not strip
himself of his education and acquired notions, the result of the
teaching of the orthodox church. He seemed unconscious of the necessity
of trying to make allowance for his unavoidable prepossessions. In
consequence, he simply fell into an old groove of received doctrines;
and these he handled under the set purpose of simplifying the
fundamentals of Christianity to the utmost. Such purpose was not the
result of his Bible study, but of his wish to overcome the political
difficulties of the time. He found, by keeping close to the Gospels and
by making proper selections from the Epistles, that the belief in Christ
as the Messiah could be shown to be the central fact of the Christian
faith; that the other main doctrines followed out of this by a process
of reasoning; and that, as all minds might not perform the process
alike, these doctrines could not be essential to the acceptance of
Christianity. He got out of the difficulty of framing a creed, as many
others have done, by simply using Scripture language, without subjecting
it to any very strict definition; certainly without the operation of
stripping the meaning of its words, to see what it amounted to. That his
short and easy method was not very successful, the history of the
Deistical controversy sufficiently proves. The end in view would, in our
time, be sought by an opposite course. Instead of disregarding
commentators, and the successions of creed embodiments, a scholar of the
present day would ascend through these to the original, and find out its
meaning, after making allowance for all the tendencies that operated to
give a bias to that meaning. As to putting us in the position of
listening to the Bible authors at first hand, we should trust more to
the erudition of a Pusey or an Ewald, than to the unassisted judgment of
a Locke.
* * * * *
II. "What constitutes the study of a book?" Mere perusal at the average
reading pace is not the way to imbibe the contents of any work of
importance, especially if the subject is new and difficult.
There are various methods in use among authoritative guides. To revert
to the Demosthenic traditions: we find two modes indicated--namely,
repeated copying, and committing to memory _verbatim_. A third is,
making abstracts in writing. A fourth may be designated the Lockian
method. Let us consider the respective merits of the four.
[STUDY BY LITERAL COPYING.]
1. Of copying a book literally through, there is this to be said, that
it engages the attention upon every word, until the act of writing
serves to impress the memory. But there are very important
qualifications to be assigned in judging of the worth of the exercise.
Observe what is the main design of the copyist. It is to produce a
_replica_ of an original upon paper. He cannot do this without a certain
amount of attention to the original; enough at least to enable him to
put down the exact words in the copy; and, by such attention, he is so
far impressed with the matter, that a certain portion may remain in the
memory. If, however, instead of the paper, he could write directly on
the brain, he would be aiming straight at his object. Now, experience
shows that the making of a copy of any document is compatible with a
very small amount of attention to the purport. The extreme case is the
copying clerk. He can literally reproduce an original, with entire
forgetfulness of what it is about. If his eye takes a faithful note of
the sequence of words, he may entirely neglect the meaning. In point of
fact, he constantly does so. He remembers nobody's secrets; and he
cannot be counted on to check blunders that make nonsense of his text.
Probably no one could go on copying for eight hours a day unless the
strain of attention to the originals were at a minimum. I conceive,
therefore, that copying habits arising from a certain amount of
experience at the vocation, would be utterly fatal to the employment of
the exercise as a means of study. It may be valuable to such as have
seldom used their pen except in original composition. Very probably, in
school lessons, to write an exercise two or three times may be a help to
the usual routine of saying off the book. I have heard experienced
teachers testify to the good effects of the practice. Yet very little
would turn the attention the wrong way. Even the requirement of neatness
on the part of the master, or the pupil's own liking for it, would abate
the desired impression. The multiplied copying set as punishment might
stamp a thing on the memory through disgust; it might also engender the
mechanical routine of the copyist. In short, to sit down and copy a long
work is about the last thing that I should dream of, as a means of
study. To copy Thucydides eight times, as the tradition respecting
Demosthenes goes, would be about the same as copying Gibbon three times:
and who would undertake that?
[COMMITTING TO MEMORY WORD FOR WORD.]
2. Committing to memory _verbatim_, or nearly so. This too belongs to
the same tradition regarding Demosthenes, and is probably as inaccurate
as the other. Certainly the eight copyings would not suffice for having
the whole by heart. Excepting a professional rhapsodist, or some one
gifted with extraordinary powers of memory that would hardly be
compatible with a great understanding, nobody would think of committing
Thucydides to memory. That Demosthenes should be a perfect master both
of the narrated facts, and of the sagacious theorisings of Thucydides
in those facts, we may take for granted. And, farther, the orations
delivered by opposing speakers in the great critical debates, might very
well have been committed _verbatim_ by a young orator; many of them are
masterpieces of oratory in every point of view. But the reason for
getting them by heart does not apply to the general narrative. Even to
imbibe the best qualities of the style of Thucydides would not require
whole pages to be learnt _verbatim_; a much better way would readily
occur to any intelligent man.
In fact, there is no case where it is profitable to load the memory with
a whole book, or with large portions of a book. There are many small
portions of every leading work that might be committed with advantage.
Principal propositions ought to be retained to the letter. Passages,
here and there, remarkable for compact force, for argumentative power,
or elegant diction, might be read and re-read till they clung to the
memory; but this should be the consummation of a thorough and critical
estimate of their merits. To commit to memory without thinking of the
meaning is a senseless act; and could not be ascribed to Demosthenes.
At the stage when the young student is forming a style, he is assisted by
laying up _memoriter_ a number of passages of great authors; but it is
never necessary to go beyond select paragraphs. Detached sentences are
valuable, and strain the memory least. Entire paragraphs have a farther
value in impressing good paragraph connection; but, to string a number
of paragraphs together, or to learn whole chapters by memory, has
nothing to recommend it in the way of mental culture.
There is a memory in _extension_ that holds a long string of words and
ideas together. Its value is to get readily at anything occurring in a
certain train, as in a given book. It is the memory of easy reference.
There is also a memory of _intension_, that takes a strong grasp of
brief expressions and thoughts, and brings them out for use, on the
slightest relevancy. The two modes interfere with each other's
development; we cannot be great in both; while, for original force, the
second is worth the most: it extracts and resets gems to tesselate our
future structures; it constitutes depth as against fluency.
To commit poetical passages to memory is a valuable contribution to our
stock of material for emotional resuscitation in after years. It also
aids in adorning our style, even although we may not aspire to compose
in poetry. But the burden of holding the connection of a long poem
should be eschewed. Children can readily learn a short psalm or hymn,
and can retain it in permanence; but to repeat the 119th psalm from the
beginning is the mere _tour-de-force_ of a strong natural memory, and a
waste of power; just as much as committing an entire book of the Aeneid
or of Paradise Lost.
* * * * *
[MAKING ABSTRACTS.]
3. Making Abstracts.--This is the plan of studying that most advances
our intelligent comprehension of any work of difficulty, and also
impresses it on the memory in the best form. But there are many ways of
doing it; and beginners, from the very fact that they are beginners,
are not competent to choose the best. If a book has an obvious and
methodical plan in itself, the reader can follow that plan, taking down
the leading positions, selecting some of the chief examples or
illustrations, giving short headings of chapters and paragraphs, and
thus making a synopsis, or full table of contents. All this is useful.
The memory is much better impressed through the exertion of picking,
choosing, and condensing, than by copying _verbatim_; and the plan or
evolution of the whole is more fully comprehended. But, if a work does
not easily lend itself to a methodical abstract, the task of the
beginner is much harder. To abstract the treatises of Aristotle was
fitting employment for Hobbes. The "Wealth of Nations" is not easy to
abstract; but, at the present day, it would not be chosen as the
Text-book-in-chief for Political Economy: as a third or fourth work to
be perused at a reading pace, it would have its proper effect. The best
studious exercise upon it would be to mark the agreements and
disagreements with the newer authority, the weak and strong points of
the exposition, and the perennial force of a certain number of the
propositions and examples. Many parts could be skipped entirely as not
even repaying historical study. Yet, as the work of a great and original
mind, its interest is perennial.
To go back once more to the example of Thucydides. Setting aside, from
intrinsic improbability, both the traditions--the copyings, and the
committal to memory _verbatim_,--we can easily see what Demosthenes
could find in the work, and how he could make the most of it. The
narrative or story could be indelibly fixed in his memory by a few
perusals, and, if need be, by a full chronology drawn up by his own
hand. The speeches could be committed in whole or in part, for their
arguments and language; and a minute study could be made of the turns of
expression, as they seemed to be either meritorious or defective. The
young orator had already studied the more finished styles of Isocrates,
Lysias, Isanis, and Plato, and could make comparisons between their
forms and the peculiarities of Thucydides, which belonged to an earlier
age. This, however, was a discipline altogether apart, and had nothing
to do with copying, committing, or abstracting. It involved one exercise
more or less allied to the last, namely, _making changes upon an author,
according to ones best ideal at the time_: changes, if possible, for the
better, but perhaps not; still requiring, however, an effort of mind,
and so far favourable to culture.
[VARIOUS MODES OF ABSTRACTING.]
Every one's first attempts at abstracting must be very bad. There is no
more opportune occasion for the assistance of a tutor or intelligent
monitor, than to revise an abstract. The weaknesses of a beginner are
apparent at a glance; even better than by a _viva voce_ interrogation.
Useful abstracting comes at a late stage of study, when one or two
subjects have been pretty well mastered. It is then that the pupil can
best overtake more advanced works on the subjects already commenced, or
can enter upon an entirely new department, in the light of previous
acquisitions.
Any work that deserves thorough study deserves the labour of making an
abstract; without which, indeed, the study is not thorough. It is quite
possible to read so as to comprehend the drift of a book, and yet forget
it entirely. The point for us to consider is--Are we likely to want any
portion of it afterwards? If we can fix upon the parts most likely to be
useful, we either copy or abstract these, or preserve a reference so as
to turn them up when wanted. In the case of a work, containing a mass of
new and valuable materials, such as we wish to incorporate with our
intellectual structure, we must act the part of the beginner in a new
field, and make an abstract on the most approved plan: that is, by such
changes as shall at once preserve the author's ideas, and intersperse
them with our own. There is an ideal balance of two opposing tendencies:
one to take down the writer too literally, which fails to impress the
meaning; the other to accommodate him too much to our own language and
thinking, in which case, we shall remember more, but it will be
remembering ourselves and not him. He that can hit the just mean between
these extremes is the perfect student.
* * * * *
There are easier modes of abstracting, such as serve many useful
purposes, although not sufficient for the mastery of a leading
Text-book, or even of a second or third in a new subject. We may pencil
on the margin, or underscore, all the leading propositions, and the
typical examples. In a well-composed scientific manual, the proceeding
is too obvious to be impressive. Very often, however, the main points
are not given in the most methodical way, but have to be searched out
by carefully scanning each paragraph. This is an exercise that both
instructs and impresses us; it is the kind of change that calls our
faculties into play, and gives us a better hold of an author, without
superseding him.
A Table of Contents carefully examined is favourable to a comprehensive
view of the whole; and, this attained, the details are remembered in the
best possible way, that is, by taking their place in the scheme. Any
other form of recollection is of the desultory kind.
* * * * *
[LOCKE'S RECOMMENDATIONS.]
4. Let us next glance at Locke's method of reading, which is unique and
original, like the man himself. It is given with much iteration in his
Conduct of the Understanding, but comes in substance to this:--
We are to fix in the mind the author's ideas, stripped of his words; to
distinguish between such ideas as are pertinent to the subject, and such
as are not; to keep the precise question steadily before our minds; to
appreciate the bearing of the arguments; and, finally, to see what the
question bottoms upon, or what are the fundamental verities or
assumptions underneath.
All this is very thorough in its way; but, in the first place, it
applies chiefly to argumentative works, and, in the second place, it is
entirely beyond the powers of ordinary students. Such an examination of
an author as Locke contemplates is not seen many times in a generation.
His own controversies give but indifferent examples of it; several of
Bentham's works and a few of John Mill's polemical articles also give an
idea of thorough handling; but it is not so properly a studious effort,
as the consummated product of a highly logical discipline, and is within
the reach of only a small elect number.
Locke would have been more intelligible, if, instead of telling us to
strip an author's meaning of the words, he had impressed strongly the
necessity of _defining all leading terms_; and of making sure that each
was always used in the same meaning. While, in order to veracious
conclusions, it is necessary that every matter of fact should be truly
given, it is equally necessary that the language should be free from
ambiguity. If an author uses the word "law," at one time as an
enactment: by some authority, and at another time, as a sequence in the
order of nature, he is sure to land us in fallacy and confusion, as
Butler did in explaining the Divine government. The remedy is, not to
perform the operation of separating the meaning entirely from the
language, but to vary the language, so as to substitute terms that have
no ambiguity. "Law" is equivocal; "social enactment," and "order of
nature," are both unequivocal; and when one is chosen, and adhered to,
the confusion is at an end.
The mere art of study is no preparation for such a task. It demands a
very advanced condition of knowledge on the particular subject, as well
as a logical habit of mind, however acquired; and to include it in a
practical essay on the Conduct of the Understanding is to overstep the
limits of the subject.
* * * * *
As our present head represents the very pith and marrow of the art of
study, we may dwell a little longer on the process of changing the form
of an author, whether by condensing, expanding, varying the expression,
altering the order, selecting, and rejecting,--or by any other known
device. Worst of all is change for the mere sake of change; it is simply
better than literal copying. But, to rise above it, needs a sense of
FORM already attained. According as this sense is developed, the
exercise of altering or amending is more and more profitable.
Consequently, there should be an express application of the mind to the
attainment of form; and particular works pre-eminent for that quality
should be sought out and read. "Form" is doubtless a wide word, and
comprises both the logical or pervading method of a work, and the
expression or dress throughout. Method by itself can be soonest acquired
because it turns on a small number of points; language is a multifarious
acquirement, and can hardly be forced, although it will come eventually
by due application.
[EXAMPLE FROM PRACTICE OF MEDICINE.]
To show what is meant by learning Form, with a view to the more
effectual study of subject-matter, I will take the example of a work on
the Practice of Medicine; in which the idea is to describe Diseases
_seriatim_, with their treatment or cures. At the present day, this
subject possesses method or form: there is a systematic classification
of diseased processes and diseases; also, a regular plan of setting
forth the specific marks of each disease, its diagnosis, and, finally,
its remedies. There are more and less perfect models of the methodical
element; while there are differences among authors in the fulness of the
detailed information. There is, besides, a Logic of Medicine,
representing the absolute form, in a kind of logical synopsis, by which
it is more easily comprehended in the first instance: not to mention the
general body of the Logic of the Inductive Sciences, of which medicine
is one. Now, undoubtedly, the best work to begin with--the
Text-book-in-chief--would be one where Form is in its highest
perfection; the amount of matter being of less consequence. In a subject
of great complication, and vast detail, the student cannot too soon get
possession of the best method or form of arrangement. When a work of
this character is before him, he is to read and re-read it, till the
form becomes strongly apparent; he is to compare one part with another,
to see how the author adheres to his own pervading method; he should, if
possible, make a synopsis of the plan in itself, disentangling it from
the applications, for greater clearness. The scheme of a medical work,
for example, comprises the Classification of Diseases, the parting off
of Diseased Processes---Fever, Inflammation, &c.--from Diseases properly
so called; the modes of defining Disease; the separation of defining
marks, from predications, and so on: all involved in a strict Logic of
Disease. Armed with these logical or methodical preliminaries, the
student next attacks one of the extended treatises on the Practice of
Medicine. He is now prepared to work the process of abstracting to the
utmost advantage, both for clearness of understanding, and for
impressing the memory. As in such a vast subject, no one author is
deemed adequate to a full exposition, and as, moreover, a great portion
of the information occurs, apart from systems, in detached memoirs or
monographs,--the only mode of unifying and holding together the
aggregate, is to reduce all the statements to a common form and order,
by help of the pre-acquired plan. The progress of study may amend the
plan, as well as add to the particular information; but absolute
perfection in the scheme is not so essential as strict adherence to it
through all the details. To work without a plan at all, is not merely to
tax the memory beyond its powers, but probably also to misconceive and
jumble the facts.
* * * * *
To enhance the illustration of the two main heads of the Art of Study,
I will so far deviate from the idea of the essay, as to take up a special
branch of education, which, more than any other, has been reduced to
form and rule, I mean the great accomplishment of Oratory, or the Art of
Persuasion. The practical Science of Rhetoric, cultivated both by
ancients and by moderns, has especially occupied itself with directions
for acquiring this great engine of influencing mankind.
It was emphatically averred by the ancient teachers of the Oratorical
art, that it must be grounded on a wide basis of general information.
I do not here discuss the exact scope of this preparatory study, as my
purpose is to narrow the illustration to what is special to the faculty
of persuasion. I must even omit all those points relating to delivery or
elocution, on which so much depends; and also the consideration of how
to attain readiness or fluency in spoken address, except in so far as
that follows from abundant oratorical resources. We thus sink the
difference between spoken oratory, and persuasion through the press.
Even as thus limited, oratory is still too wide for a pointed
illustration: and, so, I propose farther to confine my references to the
department of Political Oratory; coupling with that, however, the
Forensic branch--which has much in common with the other, and has given
birth to some of our most splendid examples of the art of persuasion.
While declining to enter on the wide field of the general education of
the orator, I may not improperly advert to the more immediate
preparation for the political orator, by a familiar acquaintance with
History and Political Philosophy, howsoever obtained. Then, on the other
hand, the course here to be chalked out assumes a considerable
proficiency in language or expression. The special education will
incidentally improve both these accomplishments, but must not be relied
on for creating them, or for causing a marked advance in either. The
effect to be looked for is rather to give them direction for the special
end.
[EXAMPLE FROM THE ART OF ORATORY.]
These things premised, the line of proceeding manifestly is to study the
choicest examples of the oratorical art, according to the methods
already laid down, with due adaptation to the peculiarities of the case.