CHAPTER XXI.

INTELLECTUAL TRAINING.--THE REASONING FACULTIES.--FEMALE EDUCATION.

The time comes at last,--sooner with one child, later with

another,--when the superior faculties begin to show their activity; when

the young pupil attempts to reason, and should be helped to reason well.

The preparation for this time ought to have gone on during all the

preceding years, in the establishment of a perfect understanding between

his parents' minds and his own. He ought to have received nothing but

truth from them, in their intellectual, as in all their other

intercourse. What I mean is this. From the time he could speak, the

child has no doubt asked the Why of everything that interested him. Now,

no one knows the ultimate Why of anything whatever; and it is right to

say this to the inquirer,--telling him as much as he can understand of

the How; and it is but little that the wisest of us know of the How. For

instance, the little thing cries out "O! there is a robin!" "A robin!

and what is it doing?" "It is hopping about. It has picked up something.

O! it is a worm. What does it get the worm for?" "To eat it. Robins eat

a great many worms." "Why do they eat worms? Why does this robin eat

that worm?" "Because it is hungry." No intelligent child will stop here.

He will want to know why the robin does not eat anything rather than

worms; why the robin is hungry; and certainly he will sooner or later

wonder why there are robins at all. About these latter mysteries, the

parent knows no more than the questioner: and he should say so. He may

tell something of the how;--how the robin and all other living creatures

are impelled to eat; how food gives nourishment; and so on. He may or

may not, according to his judgment, give information, as far as he has

it himself: but it ought not to be a matter of choice with him whether

to put off a child with an unsatisfactory answer, or to declare

truthfully his own ignorance. He must never weary of replying "I don't

know," if fairly brought to this point, after telling what he does know.

If he tells all that is understood of a tree and its growth, so that he

thinks his child cannot possibly have more to ask, he will find there

are other questions still to come. "Why are trees green?" If they are

not all green, "Why is the red beech red, and the pine black?" "Why does

a tree grow, instead of being always tall?" "Why is John Smith handsome

while Tom Brown is ugly?" "Why do people exist when they could not tell

beforehand whether they should like it or not?" Now, it will not do, if

the child's mind is to be fairly dealt with, to give a dogmatical

answer; to put off the inquirer with a form of words, or any assurance

of anything that is not absolutely known to be true. "I do not know," is

the answer which parental fidelity requires. "Does anybody know?" is the

next question. "Nobody." "Shall I ever know?" "I don't think you will:

but you can try when you grow up, if you like." Of course, the child

determines to try when he is a man: and meantime, he is satisfied for

the present. There is an understanding between his parent and himself,

which will be of infinite use to him when his time comes for finding out

truth for himself by a comparison of abstractions;--that is, by

reasoning.

With some abstractions every child becomes early familiar; as the days

of the week. Perhaps the first which he is able to use for purposes of

reasoning are numbers. They are at least eminently useful as a link

between tangible objects and those which are ideal. A child sees on the

table that two pins added to two make four pins: and then that a button

and a thimble put down beside a marble and a halfpenny make four things,

as well as if they were all of the same sort. He thus receives into his

mind the abstract notion of numbers. Whenever by his own thought, or by

inquiry of others, he clearly sees that, because two sixes make twelve,

four threes must make twelve, he has begun to reason. He has found out

a truth by comparing an abstraction with an abstraction: that is, he has

begun to reason. Having begun,--having once satisfaction in grasping an

invisible truth in this way,--he will be disposed to go on: and I, for

one, would allow him to do so, at his own pace. Nothing can be more

foolish than to stimulate the reasoning faculties too early: but I do

not see why their natural action should be repressed because of a theory

that the reasoning faculties should not come into activity till such or

such an age. I know how painful such repression is to a thoughtful

child, and how useless is the attempt to stop the process, which will

only be carried on with less advantage, instead of being put an end to.

I knew a girl of eleven, thoughtful and timid, seldom venturing to ask

questions, or to open her mind about what occupied it most,--who, on

some unusual incitement to confidence during a summer evening walk,

opened a theme of perplexity, to get a solution from a grown-up brother,

whom she regarded as able to solve anything. She told him that she could

not see how, if God foreknew everything, and could ordain everything,

men could ever be said to sin against him, or be justly punished for

anything they did: and then she went on to the other particular of that

problem;--how, if God was all powerful to create happiness, and all good

to desire it, there came to be any suffering in the world. Her brother

answered her with kindness in his tone, but injudiciously. He told her

that that was a very serious question which she was too young to

consider yet; and that some years hence would be time enough. She was

dissatisfied and hurt;--not from pride; but because she felt it hard to

be left in a perplexity from which she fully supposed her brother could

relieve her. She felt that if she could ask the question,--thus put in a

definite form,--she must be capable of understanding the answer. And so

she undoubtedly was. If the brother held the doctrine of free will, he

should have replied that he did not know;--that he could not understand

the perplexity any more than herself. If he held the necessarian

doctrine, he should have imparted it to her; for her question showed

that she was capable of receiving it. The end of the matter was that she

suffered for years under that reply, never again venturing to propose

her difficulty to any one. She worked her way through the soluble half

of the question alone at last,--thinking first, and then reading, and

then meditating again, till all was clear and settled; and in her mature

years she found herself fast anchored on the necessarian

doctrine,--rather wondering how she could have been so long in

satisfying herself about a matter so clear, but aware that she had found

an inestimable gain;--which she might have reposed upon some years

earlier, if the natural working of her faculties had been trusted as it

might have been.

Our enjoyment of our faculties appears to me to be more proportioned to

their quality than their strength:--that, whether any one of us has the

reasoning power, or the imagination stronger or weaker than the

perceptive and conceptive faculties, he enjoys most the exercise of the

higher. Certainly, children whose faculties are developed freely and

fairly have an intense relish for reasoning, while the mind remains

unwearied. The commonest topics voluntarily chosen are conduct and

character; because the most familiar and interesting abstractions are

those which are connected with morals. How boys and girls will debate by

the hour together about the stoicism of Junius Brutus, and the

patriotism of Brutus and Cassius; and about all the suicides of all

Romans, and all the questionable acts of all heroes! The mother is the

great resource here, because she is always at hand; and these matters

are of such pressing importance to the little people, that they cannot

wait till their father comes in, or can give them some of his evening

leisure. These topics are good as an exercise of both the moral and

intellectual powers: but they do not yield full satisfaction to the

reasoning faculty, because they can never be brought to any certain and

evident issue. The conclusions of morals are clear enough for practical

guidance; but they are not proveable. For the full satisfaction of the

reasoning faculties, therefore, children must set to work

elsewhere.--They may get something of it out of their lessons in

grammar, if they are trusted with the sense of the grammar they are

taught: lighting upon an accusative case and a verb in a Latin sentence,

they know there must be a nominative: and there it is presently,

accordingly. Finding an ablative absolute, they are confident of finding

some sort of proposition: and there it is, to their hand. The words on

the page before them are as real to the sense as the written numerals on

their slates: but behind both there is a working of unseen

laws,--independent of the signification of either words or

numerals,--whose operation and issue it is a deep-felt pleasure to

follow and apprehend. The rules of grammar, and the laws of

numbers,--(the rules of arithmetic, in short,)--are abstractions

proceeding from abstractions; and their workings bring out a conclusion

clear to the pupil's apprehension, and unquestionable. This is all

exercise of the reasoning powers; and it is this exercise of those

powers, or the use of ear and memory only which makes the difference

between a pupil who learns grammar and arithmetic with the understanding

or by rote.

I once witnessed a curious instance of the difference between the

reasoning pupils of a class at school and the learners by rote. The test

was, I think, designed by the master to be a test; and it answered his

purpose even better than our strenuous exercises in grammar and

arithmetic. Our master proposed to give some of us an idea of English

composition, and said he would next week explain to us how to set about

it. Some of us, however, were all on fire with the idea of writing essays,

and were by no means disposed to wait. The next time our master entered

the school-room, eight or ten pairs of beseeching eyes were fixed upon him;

and he, being a good-natured man, asked what we wished. What we wanted

was to be allowed immediately to write an essay on Music. He had no

objection; but he asked for some precision in the object of the

essay;--proposed that it should be the Uses of Psalmody, or some such

topic, which could be treated in the limits of a school theme;--but no;

he saw by the faces and manner of the class that it must be an essay on

Music. I was the youngest of the class, who ranged from eleven to

sixteen: and I wondered whether the elder ones felt as I did when I saw

the little smile at the corners of the mouth, amidst the careful respect

of our kind master. I felt that we were somehow doing something very

silly, though I could not clearly see what. It was plain enough when we

brought up our themes. Our master's respect and kindness never failed:

and he now was careful to say that there was much that was true in each

essay; but----. We saw the "but" for ourselves, and were ready to sink

with shame; for nobody had courage to begin to laugh at our folly. Such

a mass of rhapsody and rhodomontade as we presented to our master! Such

highflying, incoherent nonsense! Each was pretty well satisfied with her

own rhapsody till she heard the seven or nine others read. "Now, perhaps

you perceive," our master began: and indeed we saw it all;--the lack of

order and object;--the flimsiness,--and our own presumption. We were now

more ready to be taught. Some, however, could not yet learn; and others

liked this lesson better than any they had ever attempted. This is the

difference which induces me to tell the story here. We were taught the

parts of a theme, as our master and many others approved and practised

them, in sermons and essays: and the nature and connexion of these parts

were so clearly pointed out, that on the instant it appeared to me that

a sudden light was cast at once on the processes of thought and of

composition,--for both of which I had before an indistinct and somewhat

oppressive reverence. I saw how the Proposition, the Reason, the

Example, the Confirmation, and the Conclusion led out the subject into

order and clearness, and, in fact, regularly emptied our minds of what

we had to say upon it. From that day till our school was broken up (and

my heart nearly broken with it) a year and a half afterwards, the joy of

my life was writing themes;--or rather composing them; for the act of

writing was terribly irksome. But that which some of us eminently

enjoyed was altogether burdensome to others, from the procedure of the

task being utterly unintelligible. I suppose their reasoning faculties

were yet unawakened,--though they were not so very young. The

Proposition they usually wrote down in the words in which our subject

was given to us;--the mere title of the theme. The Reason was any sort

of reason about any affair whatever,--the authors protesting that a

reason was a reason any day. The Examples were begged, or copied out of

any history book. The Confirmation was omitted, or declared to consist

in "the universal experience of mankind,"--whatever the subject might

be: and as for the Conclusion, that was easy enough:--it was only to say

that for all the reasons given, the author concluded so and so,--in the

words of the title. This was a case in which it would have been better

to wait awhile, till the meaning of the task and its method should dawn

upon the minds yet unready. But, for those who were capable, it was a

task of great pleasure and privilege; and we loved our master for

testing and trusting our faculties in a direction so new to us.

Those studies which require reasoning as a means to a proveable issue

are of a high order, as regards both profit and pleasure: and boys and

girls will be the better through life for whatever mathematical training

their parents can procure for them. Be it little or be it much, they

will have reason to be grateful as long as they live for what they can

obtain. I mention girls, as well as boys, confident that every person

able to see the right, and courageous enough to utter it, will sanction

what I say. I must declare that on no subject is more nonsense talked,

(as it seems to me) than on that of female education, when restriction

is advocated. In works otherwise really good, we find it taken for

granted that girls are not to learn the dead languages and mathematics,

because they are not to exercise professions where these attainments are

wanted; and a little further on we find it said that the chief reason

for boys and young men studying these things is to improve the quality

of their minds. I suppose none of us will doubt that everything possible

should be done to improve the quality of the mind of every human

being.--If it is said that the female brain is incapable of studies of

an abstract nature,--that is not true: for there are many instances of

women who have been good mathematicians, and good classical scholars.

The plea is indeed nonsense on the face of it; for the brain which will

learn French will learn Greek; the brain which enjoys arithmetic is

capable of mathematics.--If it is said that women are light-minded and

superficial, the obvious answer is that their minds should be the more

carefully sobered by grave studies, and the acquisition of exact

knowledge.--If it is said that their vocation in life does not require

these kinds of knowledge,--that is giving up the main plea for the

pursuit of them by boys;--that it improves the quality of their

minds.--If it is said that such studies unfit women for their proper

occupations,--that again is untrue. Men do not attend the less to their

professional business, their counting-house or their shop, for having

their minds enlarged and enriched, and their faculties strengthened by

sound and various knowledge; nor do women on that account neglect the

work-basket, the market, the dairy and the kitchen. If it be true that

women are made for these domestic occupations, then of course they will

be fond of them. They will be so fond of what comes most naturally to

them that no book-study (if really not congenial to their minds) will

draw them off from their homely duties. For my part, I have no

hesitation whatever in saying that the most ignorant women I have known

have been the worst housekeepers; and that the most learned women I have

known have been among the best,--wherever they have been early taught

and trained to household business, as every woman ought to be. A woman

of superior mind knows better than an ignorant one what to require of

her servants, how to deal with trades-people, and how to economise time:

she is more clear-sighted about the best ways of doing things; has a

richer mind with which to animate all about her, and to solace her own

spirit in the midst of her labours. If nobody doubts the difference in

pleasantness of having to do with a silly and narrow-minded woman and

with one who is intelligent and enlightened, it must be clear that the

more intelligence and enlightenment there is, the better. One of the

best housekeepers I know,--a simple-minded, affectionate-hearted woman,

whose table is always fit for a prince to sit down to, whose house is

always neat and elegant, and whose small income yields the greatest

amount of comfort, is one of the most learned women ever heard of. When

she was a little girl, she was sitting sewing in the window-seat while

her brother was receiving his first lesson in mathematics from his

tutor. She listened, and was delighted with what she heard; and when

both left the room, she seized upon the Euclid that lay on the table,

ran up to her room, went over the lesson, and laid the volume where it

was before. Every day after this, she sat stitching away and listening,

in like manner, and going over the lesson afterwards, till one day she

let out the secret. Her brother could not answer a question which was

put to him two or three times; and, without thinking of anything else,

she popped out the answer. The tutor was surprised, and after she had

told the simple truth, she was permitted to make what she could of

Euclid. Some time after, she spoke confidentially to a friend of the

family,--a scientific professor,--asking him, with much hesitation and

many blushes, whether he thought it was wrong for a woman to learn

Latin. "Certainly not," he said; "provided she does not neglect any

duty for it.--But why do you want to learn Latin?" She wanted to study

Newton's Principia: and the professor thought this a very good reason.

Before she was grown into a woman, she had mastered the Principia of

Newton. And now, the great globe on which we live is to her a book in

which she reads the choice secrets of nature; and to her the last known

wonders of the sky are disclosed: and if there is a home more graced

with accomplishments, and more filled with comforts, I do not know such

an one. Will anybody say that this woman would have been in any way

better without her learning?--while we may confidently say that she

would have been much less happy.

As for women not wanting learning, or superior intellectual training,

that is more than any one should undertake to say in our day. In former

times, it was understood that every woman, (except domestic servants)

was maintained by her father, brother or husband; but it is not so now.

The footing of women is changed, and it will change more. Formerly,

every woman was destined to be married; and it was almost a matter of

course that she would be: so that the only occupation thought of for a

woman was keeping her husband's house, and being a wife and mother. It

is not so now. From a variety of causes, there is less and less marriage

among the middle classes of our country; and much of the marriage that

there is does not take place till middle life. A multitude of women have

to maintain themselves who would never have dreamed of such a thing a

hundred years ago. This is not the place for a discussion whether this

is a good thing for women or a bad one; or for a lamentation that the

occupations by which women might maintain themselves are so few; and of

those few, so many engrossed by men. This is not the place for a

speculation as to whether women are to grow into a condition of

self-maintenance, and their dependence for support upon father, brother

and husband to become only occasional. With these considerations,

interesting as they are, we have no business at this moment. What we

have to think of is the necessity,--in all justice, in all honour, in

all humanity, in all prudence,--that every girl's faculties should be

made the most of, as carefully as boys'. While so many women are no

longer sheltered, and protected, and supported, in safety from the world

(as people used to say) every woman ought to be fitted to take care of

herself. Every woman ought to have that justice done to her faculties

that she may possess herself in all the strength and clearness of an

exercised and enlightened mind, and may have at command, for her

subsistence, as much intellectual power and as many resources as

education can furnish her with. Let us hear nothing of her being shut

out, because she is a woman, from any study that she is capable of

pursuing: and if one kind of cultivation is more carefully attended to

than another, let it be the discipline and exercise of the reasoning

faculties. From the simplest rules of arithmetic let her go on, as her

brother does, as far into the depths of science, and up to the heights

of philosophy as her powers and opportunities permit; and it will

certainly be found that the more she becomes a reasoning creature, the

more reasonable, disciplined and docile she will be: the more she knows

of the value of knowledge and of all other things, the more diligent she

will be;--the more sensible of duty,--the more interested in

occupations,--the more womanly. This is only coming round to the points

we started from; that every human being is to be made as perfect as

possible: and that this must be done through the most complete

development of all the faculties.

Household Education · 第 21 / 26 章