CHAPTER V.

THE INFLUENCE OF EDUCATION.

The highest conception of an education would include the idea of its being

symmetrical; that is, that the psychical and physical should be trained

together and in harmony; that the system should be considered and educated

as a whole, the brain not being stimulated in its cultivation at the

expense of the body, or neglected while the latter is in process of

development. If both are educated together, and with due proportion of

attention to the laws of development and growth of each, then they will be

in the most favorable condition to withstand the effects of the wear and

tear which come in the lives of all.

That the courses of education at present pursued in the larger number of

our select and common schools, especially those located in cities and

large towns, are of this character, will hardly be claimed by persons who

study educational systems and processes from a physiological and sanitary

point of view.

At five or six years of age, and while for some years the system must be

in the formative, growing period of its existence, the child is confined

five hours a day on a hard seat or chair, in a room often illy ventilated

and irregularly heated. During the larger portion of this time he or she

is expected to have the mind occupied in study, or recitation, which is

quite equivalent to study. In addition to this, after the child arrives at

the age of ten or twelve years, tasks of such extent and difficulty are

imposed, that it becomes necessary to study one or two hours during the

evening. I think that most persons, with much experience in intellectual

occupations, will agree with me, that six hours a day are quite enough for

an adult mind to be occupied, with advantage, in study. I am confident it

will be found that our most successful clergymen, lawyers, and

_litterateurs_, though at times a more protracted period of mental effort

may be necessary, yet, as a rule, do not spend a longer period daily in

intellectual efforts.

Yet in the education of our little children, we find that both teachers

and parents, in their blind ambition to hurry them forward, conspire in

imposing tasks of such a character and magnitude as to require longer

hours of study than we know to be best for the adult brain.[4]

I believe, however, that the largest mischief does not come from the

length of time occupied in confinement and study, great as this may be. A

still larger defect in the system lies in the multiplicity of the subjects

studied and the lack of sufficient individuality in its administration.

In the graded schools children are parcelled out in numbers ranging from

forty to sixty in one room, and put under the charge of one teacher. The

system is too purely a mechanical one; all must come in, go out, rise up

and sit down, study, and recite in very large classes. There is no room or

time for individuality in any department of study, and very little in any

recitation. Each one goes on with the whole, or he drops out and back,

while the half-exhausted teacher has neither time nor opportunity to

bestow the little attention and aid which would often be of so much value.

No teacher can do even half justice to any such number of children, and I

presume it is not expected he will. His task appears to be to find that in

some way or other the pupil seems to be able to recite his lesson, and if

not, that he work at it until he does; and if the unfortunate one fails,

see that he goes back to a lower class. Now, doubtless, one or two out of

every five of these fifty or sixty children will be able to press on with

comparative ease and health through all the studies which all are expected

to master, but for the other three or four of the five, there exists a

large tendency toward confusion of mind and imperfect knowledge, rather

than those clear conceptions and definite understanding which tend to give

vigor and strength of brain.

In this respect, I believe the educational process of fifty years ago was

better than that of to-day. The teacher had a much smaller number of

pupils, and, consequently, had better opportunity to study the

peculiarities and tendencies of individual minds: he was better able to

appreciate their deficiencies and the consequent needs each had. Fewer

books were read, and these of such a character as was adapted to

strengthen the memory; fewer subjects were studied, and there was time to

more thoroughly understand and fully master them. Facts and processes

attained were clear and definite, and there were less confused and

half-understood lessons and theories, so that, as the mind became more

mature, it went out for larger fields and broader pastures of knowledge.

They, doubtless, did not have much information as to the movements of the

heavenly bodies, or of the names of insignificant towns, hamlets, or

rivers on the eastern or western coast of Africa. They might not be able

to define the boundaries of Kamtchatka, nor give the pluperfect of a large

number of irregular verbs; but, on the other hand, their brains were clear

and active, and possessed a recipient capacity. They were not crammed or

confused by the dim memories of a vast multitude of names or facts which,

by no possibility, could have any important bearing on their future lives

or fortunes.

Knowledge, to be of much practical value to its possessor, must be clear

and definite in the mind. When only partially understood or dimly

perceived by the mind, it tends rather to confuse and weaken than

invigorate; consequently, during the earlier periods of life, study in our

schools should be confined to a comparatively few subjects, and there

should be opportunity for the teacher to see that the scholar receives

such individual attention as will enable him to fully master the allotted

tasks. We must ever bear in mind that the grand object in attending school

is, physiologically considered, to make the brain vigorous and stable in

its operations, and as little liable to instability and irregular action

as possible. Any course of training, during this early formative period of

life, which tends to crowd the brain or stimulate it to over-activity,

must tend to after-weakness and instability.

This leads me to protest against the modern tendency to continually

increase the requirements for entering and continuing in the graded

schools of our cities. The number of dates and names, relating as they

often do to many different subjects of study, and the amount of writing in

a short space of time, tend to mental confusion; and while the number of

studies is increased, the time for their acquisition must remain

unchanged, so that the scholar is hurried on through or dropped by the

way. To avoid this latter result, too great and too protracted mental

effort is necessary on the part of some children, while in many cases the

results are manifested in a state of mental confusion and uncertainty, or

a nervous, hysterical condition.

I have in mind at this writing cases which will illustrate my point. One

was that of a young lady of ordinary mental endowments, whose parents

usually brought her to me for advice as often as every two or three weeks,

because she was nervous, and suffered from frequent and protracted

headaches. Inquiry elicited the fact that she was obliged to study during

the evening until ten or eleven o'clock to accomplish the tasks which were

assigned to her class. It was thought by the parents that this practice

was all right, that it evinced faithfulness and ambition, and it was with

much difficulty that I could convince either her or her parents that her

ill-health was due to the constant violation of the laws of health; that

her brain and whole nervous system required longer periods of repose and

quiet at her age than it would be likely to need later; that the future of

her whole life as a member of society might, and must, in a large degree,

depend, not on the grade of the marks she might receive in her daily

recitations, but largely on the nervous and physical strength she might be

able to build up before she should become twenty-one years of age. This

young lady was of a healthy parentage, and inherited a good physique, and

with proper habits of life and study would have had excellent health. As

it is, her system will not for years, if ever, recover from the effects of

her habits of excessive hours of study.

The name of another patient occurs to me: a young man of good parentage,

and apparently inheriting a good constitution. He was ambitious in study,

and his parents permitted him to do all he might choose to. He entered

college at sixteen, standing among the best scholars of his class, but

before the end of the first year, began to be troubled with noises in his

head and confusion of mind. He was removed from college, and remained out

till the end of the year, but partially kept up his studies at home. He

entered the sophomore class but was obliged to leave earlier in the course

than before. He tried the junior year with a like result, and from this

time exhibited more pronounced indications of mental impairment. He

travelled both in this country and in Europe; he consulted some of the

most eminent physicians, but all to no purpose; the mischief had been too

effectually accomplished. The delicate tissues of the brain had been

over-strained, and so impaired that when his parents awoke to the gravity

of his condition, it was too late to repair the mischief.

I have under my care at the present time a young girl, thirteen years of

age, who has come to me from one of the seminaries for girls in New

England. She informs me that the pupils in that institution are required

to spend eight or more hours a day in study and recitation, and some

portion more of every day in household work, and that _she_ was permitted

to study and recite some ten hours a day, as she was behind her class in

some of the studies when she entered.

It is not surprising that in less than one year she returned to her home,

suffering from headaches, cold feet, nervousness, and inability to sleep,

and in a short time became so excitable and incoherent in thought and

language, that it became necessary to remove her from home. After a long

period of rest with appropriate treatment, she has become so strong that

she will soon go into the country, where I have directed that she remain

for one or two years without study, in the hope that the nervous system

may regain its health under the influence of a life spent largely in the

open air.[5]

A young man, standing, so far as was indicated by marks, in the front rank

of his class, had strength of brain barely to graduate, and then for years

was able to do but little study, and spent his time in a vain search for

that health which by judicious habits in study he would never have lost.

Many other cases of similar character could be cited if it was necessary

to adduce additional confirmation of my views.

I desire, however, not only to call attention to, and greatly emphasize,

the effects of study so far as they may manifest themselves on the

individuals themselves, but the effects which these persons are certain to

transmit to their posterity. The brain may and does, in many cases, so far

recover that it may fairly do the work, or _a_ work in life, but it has

attained a bias--a twist,--which will be seen to manifest itself in the

next generation in something more than a twist; it will be an insane

diathesis--a brain constituted in so unstable a manner, that the friction

of ordinary life will upset it, ending in insanity.

I have often thought that teachers are only partially to blame, as they

are countenanced and encouraged by the parents in this injudicious course

of mental stimulation in early life. Especially is this the case if a

child happens to be so fortunate--I perhaps should rather say

_unfortunate_--as to have in any measure a higher order of mind than his

fellows; he is likely to be the theme of conversation, in relation to his

studies, not only in his own home, but with all the cousins, aunts, and

neighbors, until finally the child comes to form altogether a false

estimate as to the importance of its own attainments and ability. It is

quite possible, also, that the freedom of our educational and governmental

institutions may serve to help it on. Every child is taught, at home and

in school, that all the prizes of life are within his grasp, _if he will

only make the requisite effort_, while every parent is anxious to have his

child higher up in the social scale than he is. These conditions not

unfrequently serve to stimulate those specially ambitious to

over-exertion, while again, there is less of the controlling element, both

at home and in social life, than exists under most other forms of

government.

It becomes necessary here to refer to the system, so universally prevalent

in our colleges, of competition in grades of scholarship. I do this with

greater reluctance, knowing very well how fully men of long experience

have studied the subject, and how extremely difficult it may be to devise

and carry into operation any plan which may prove to be more desirable for

all concerned.

In any considerable number of boys, from the ages of fifteen to twenty-two

years, there will be some who realize so little the objects and benefits

to be obtained through the discipline of study, that they will care little

for honors or standards of scholarship, and are in no possible danger of

over-exertion to obtain them. With such persons we need not concern

ourselves at present.

On the other hand there are those who so fully appreciate the grand

advantages resulting from an education, that they would be sure to do a

fair amount of labor, and honestly employ their time, under almost any

system of management. Now it is from the latter class, that come the

students who are to attain to and hold the positions of influence in

after-life, and too great care cannot be exercised that their

characteristics of mind be judiciously brought into exercise and strength.

They are, for the most part, ambitious; and in many cases this ambition

stimulates them to the largest effort to carry off the prizes which may

come in the way of scholarship during their college course.

These prizes frequently depend on extremely small differences in

proficiency which may be obtained, in many cases, over long periods of

time. It is understood that it is commonly the case that the differences

in scholarship of those who obtain the highest five or six honors in

college are often very small, and that these honors may be assigned to one

or to another by failure or success on some point, the knowledge

concerning which could by no possibility have any influence in after-life,

and which must be but an imperfect indication of true scholarship and

mental ability; and yet so strong is the power of ambition as to lead

some few of the highest minds, in almost every class, to neglect the

commonest laws of health in reference to physical exercise and sleep, that

they may secure these temporary honors. The brain is stimulated to long

and weary hours of study by the effects of tea or coffee, or in some cases

by the use of more objectionable substances, when regard for health would

require it to be in a state of repose and sleep; and this is during the

period of life when it has not yet attained to its full growth, and while

its substance is still in a more sensitive and delicate condition, and

consequently more likely to be unfavorably affected by such treatment than

in the maturity of later life.

From personal observation I am satisfied that some of the brightest minds

are essentially ruined for the accomplishment of any large work in life by

such a course of conduct in their education, who, under some other course

of management, in which these mental tendencies could have been better

understood and guided, might have been saved; and that often these are

minds with the best natural endowments.

How it is possible that instructors of young persons can suppose that any

larger power of intellect, or any greater capacity for usefulness in

after-life, can possibly be secured by such treatment, or rather by such

abuse of the organ of the mind, or why they have not been more careful to

instruct those under their care as to this most important of all subjects

to them in their future work, it is not easy to imagine, and can only be

accounted for by the supposition that they have not studied the subject

carefully enough in its physiological relations.

It should always be borne in mind that excessive use or stimulation of any

part or organ of the system can in no sense be considered as education of

it, but as a sin against its nature, which will be sure to require

retribution. It may be made to accomplish more in a given time, but it

must be at a discount on its future activity; there must come a reaction,

that is, a condition in which there will be performed less of function

than before; and that such a course of treatment has a tendency to produce

a condition of _instability_, and more or less of _uncertainty of action_.

Within the last twenty years there appears to have come, in some measure,

a reaction in reference to exclusive attention to brain discipline, and in

favor of more attention to physical exercise during the college

curriculum. There have been organized in most of the colleges and

academies, boating clubs, base-ball clubs, and other associations with the

avowed object of securing a higher state of physical development and

education. This has been a step in the right direction, and none too soon

have we come to realize the fact that the brain depends very largely upon

the health of the body for its exercise of the best thought. The

importance of a physical education will be more fully referred to

hereafter, but at this stage of the subject it is pertinent to suggest

that violent use of the muscles for short periods is generally not the

best mode of exercise; that the sudden expenditure of so much nervous

force in training and in contests, as is necessary in order to secure the

highest attainable power in rapidity, skill, and strength of stroke,

during a half or one hour; or to attain the highest skill in throwing a

ball, or in receiving it in hand, or in many other of the manoeuvres of

base-ball playing, which require such quick changes of position, and

violent motion of the body, is in great danger of ultimately defeating the

very object for which they are ostensibly practised.

The skill and power may be obtained, and the winning crew or club may have

the satisfaction of receiving the welcome plaudits or the crowning laurels

bestowed on victors, but how far all this will prove to be of service in

securing either strength or health of body, may be a question; or rather

it will not be a question at all. In nine out of every ten cases there

exists almost a certainty that a larger measure of physical health and

capacity of endurance in after-life would have been attained by some other

course, or method, attended with less stimulation and expenditure of

nerve-force. The period of reaction no less surely comes than in cases of

other kinds of stimulation, and is frequently manifested in functional or

organic derangements of the heart and other organs. Healthy and continuous

muscular power comes more surely by the expenditure of a medium amount of

nerve-force, and no other method can properly be considered as physical

education.

Lest, however, it may be thought I have placed too much importance in this

matter of over-study and nervous exertion, and to show that we Americans

are not the only ones at fault, I will here introduce some statements from

an English physician[6] of the highest authority.

He says: "The master of a private school informs me that he has proof of

the effects of overwork in the fact of boys being withdrawn from the keen

competition of a public-school career, which was proving injurious to

their health, and sent to him, that they might, in the less ambitious

atmosphere of a private school, pick up health and strength again. He

refers to instances of boys who had been crammed and much pressed in order

that they might enter a certain form or gain a desired exhibition, having

reached the goal successfully and then stagnated." He further says: "Too

many hours' daily study, and the knowledge of an approaching examination,

when the system is developing and requiring an abundance of good air and

exercise, easily accounts for pale and worn looks, frequent headache,

disturbed sleep, nightmare, and nervous fears. When the career of such

students does not end in graduating in a lunatic asylum, they lose for

years, possibly always, the elasticity and buoyancy of spirits essential

to robust health. A strong constitution may be sacrificed to supposed

educational necessities."

"Mr. Burndell Carter,[7] in his 'Influence of Education and Training in

Promoting Diseases of the Nervous System,' speaks of a large public school

in London from which boys of ten to twelve years of age carry home tasks

which would occupy them till near midnight, and of which the rules and

laws of study are so arranged as to preclude the possibility of sufficient

recreation. The teacher in a high school says that the host of subjects in

which parents insist on instruction being given to their children is

simply preposterous, and disastrous alike to health and to real steady

progress in necessary branches of knowledge. The other day I met an

examiner in the street with a roll of papers consisting of answers and

questions. He deplored the fashion of the day; the number of subjects

crammed within a few years of growing life; the character of the questions

which were frequently asked, and the requiring a student to master, at

the peril of being rejected, scientific theories and crude speculations

which they would have to unlearn in a year or two. He sincerely pities the

unfortunate students. During the last year or two, the public have been

startled by the number of suicides which have occurred on the part of

young men preparing for examination at the University of London, and the

press has spoken out strongly on the subject. Notwithstanding this, the

authorities appear to be disposed to increase instead of diminish the

stringency of some of the examinations."

These statements were made as showing a tendency on the part of the

prevalent modes of education in England, to produce in its subjects either

insanity or a tendency toward it. I here reproduce them as confirmatory of

my own views already expressed, and would especially call attention to the

fact that though this influence may fail in producing actual insanity, yet

it is of such a character as will tend to develop instability of brain

tissue, and in the coming generation the insane diathesis. Parents

transmit acquired tendencies toward disease as well as, and indeed I think

more frequently than, disease itself.

I must beg, however, not to be misunderstood. I think I appreciate the

importance of an education for the development and discipline of the brain

as profoundly as any one. I believe the lack of brain discipline for those

who are to compete in the midst of such a civilization as that of the

present, is one of the greatest misfortunes; but I do desire to protest

with much emphasis against the system of indiscriminate cramming toward

which the schools appear to be so rapidly drifting. It defeats one of the

most important ends to be sought. It tends to confusion and weakness of

mind instead of strength. Children have so many subjects to learn about,

that they do not have time to fully understand subjects studied. The brain

is occupied so many hours daily that its energy is exhausted, and there

remains little ability to accurately appreciate, discriminate, or fix the

attention.

The same conditions result, as there would from the too long and

continuous use of the muscles of the arm, when one is learning to execute

a piece of delicate work--the drawing of a picture, or making a work of

art. In such a case the importance of only limited periods of application

would be readily appreciated; great care would be exercised by the teacher

lest the pupil should continue the work too long, or after the muscles had

become weary and consequently incapable of accurate work.

We observe the same care in our treatment of the young of domestic

animals, and are watchful that they be not over-driven or over-worked

while their systems are undeveloped and in the growing period. When one is

looking for the best growth, or the highest strength or speed attainable,

if judicious, much vigilance will be exercised lest the animal be

over-driven or worked many hours a day, until the system is developed and

firmly knit together. Shall we be less careful or less wise in our

treatment of children?

Surely, there should not be need that I plead for such a course of

education as will render the brain stronger and more capable of vigorous

work in life, and of transmitting to another generation a sound mental

organization, instead of, as is too often the case, a tendency to unstable

and irregular action, which will have a final ending in insanity. That

this may be the outcome of education there must be changes in the present

system, and I plead earnestly that these may relate to at least two

things, if no more: first, a larger measure of _individuality_,--smaller

schools and fewer pupils for each teacher, that each may have more special

assistance and _special_ training; and, second, _a less number of subjects

of study_. Let there be fewer subjects studied, and let what is studied be

more thoroughly mastered. Have fewer half-understood problems and

half-remembered lessons, and I believe we shall have more stable brains

and stronger intellects in after-life.

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