Libraries and lectures for the operatives in the manufactori

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THOUGHTS

ON

EDUCATIONAL TOPICS

AND

INSTITUTIONS.

BY

GEORGE S. BOUTWELL.

BOSTON:

PHILLIPS, SAMPSON AND COMPANY.

MDCCCLIX.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1859, by

GEORGE S. BOUTWELL,

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of

Massachusetts.

STEREOTYPED BY

HOBART AND ROBBINS, BOSTON.

To

THE TEACHERS OF MASSACHUSETTS,

WHOSE

ENLIGHTENED DEVOTION TO THEIR DUTIES

HAS

CONTRIBUTED EFFECTUALLY TO THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING,

This Volume

IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED.

G. S. B.

CONTENTS.

PAGE

THE INTRINSIC NATURE AND VALUE OF LEARNING, AND ITS

INFLUENCE UPON LABOR, 9

EDUCATION AND CRIME, 49

REFORMATION OF CHILDREN, 75

THE CARE AND REFORMATION OF THE NEGLECTED AND EXPOSED

CLASSES OF CHILDREN, 86

ELEMENTARY TRAINING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS, 131

THE RELATIVE MERITS OF PUBLIC HIGH SCHOOLS AND ENDOWED

ACADEMIES, 152

THE HIGH SCHOOL SYSTEM, 164

NORMAL SCHOOL TRAINING, 203

FEMALE EDUCATION, 221

THE INFLUENCE, DUTIES, AND REWARDS, OF TEACHERS, 241

LIBERTY AND LEARNING, 274

MASSACHUSETTS SCHOOL FUND, 308

A SYSTEM OF AGRICULTURAL EDUCATION, 339

THE INTRINSIC NATURE AND VALUE OF LEARNING, AND ITS INFLUENCE UPON

LABOR.

[Lecture before the American Institute of Instruction.]

Words and terms have, to different minds, various significations; and we

often find definitions changing in the progress of events. Bailey says

learning is "skill in languages or sciences." To this, Walker adds what

he calls "literature," and "skill in anything, good or bad." Dr. Webster

enlarges the meaning of the word still more, and says, "Learning is the

knowledge of principles or facts received by instruction or study;

acquired knowledge or ideas in any branch of science or literature;

erudition; literature; science; knowledge acquired by experience,

experiment, or observation." Milton gives us a rhetorical definition in

a negative form, which is of equal value, at least, with any authority

yet cited. "And though a linguist," says Milton, "should pride himself

to have all the tongues that Babel cleft the world into, yet if he have

not studied the solid things in them, as well as the words and

lexicons, he were nothing so much to be esteemed a learned man, as any

yeoman or tradesman competently wise in his mother dialect

only."--"Language is but the instrument conveying to us things useful to

be known."

This is kindred to the saying of Locke, that "men of much reading are

greatly learned, but may be little knowing." We must give to the term

_learning_ a broad definition, if we accept Milton's statement that its

end "is to repair the ruins of our first parents by regaining to know

God aright;" for this necessarily implies that we are to study carefully

everything relating to the nature of our existence, to the spot and

scene of our existence, with its mysterious phenomena, and its

comparatively unexplained laws. And we must, moreover, always keep in

view the personal relations and duties which the Creator has imposed

upon the members of the human race. The knowledge of these relations and

duties is one form of learning; the disposition and the ability to

observe and practise these relations and duties, is another and a higher

form of learning. The first is the learning of the theologian, the

schoolman; the latter is the learning of the practical Christian. Both

ought to exist; but when they are separated, we place things above

signs, facts above forms, life above ideas. Law and justice ought always

to be united; but when by error, or fraud, or usurpation, they are

separated, we observe the forms of law, but we respect the principles of

justice. This is a good illustration of the principles which guide to a

true distinction in the forms of learning. Of all the definitions

enumerated, we must give to the word _learning_ the broadest

signification. It is safe to accept the statement of the great poet,

that a man may be acquainted with many languages, and yet not be

learned; even as the apostle said he should become as sounding brass or

a tinkling cymbal, if he had not charity, though he spoke with the

tongues of men and angels. Learning includes, no doubt, a knowledge of

the languages, the sciences, and all literature; but it includes also

much else; and this much else may be more important than the enumerated

branches. The term _learned_ has been limited, usually, by exclusive

application to the schoolmen; but it is a matter of doubt, especially in

this country, upon the broad definition laid down, whether there is more

learning in the schools, or out of them. This remark, if true, is no

reflection upon the schools, but much in favor of the world. Those were

dark ages when learning was confined to the schools; and, though we can

never be too grateful for their existence, and the fidelity with which

they preserved the knowledge of other days, that is surely a higher

attainment in the life of the race, when the learning of the world

exceeds the learning of the cloister, the school, and the college.

In a private conversation, Professor Guyot made a remark which seems to

have a public value. "You give to your schools," said he, "credit that

is really due to the world. Looking at America with the eye of an

European, it appears to me that your world is doing more and your

schools are doing less, in the cause of education, than you are inclined

to believe." For one, though I ought, as much as any, to stand for the

schools, I give a qualified assent to the truth of this observation.

There is much learning among us which we cannot trace directly to the

schools; but the schools have introduced and fostered a spirit which has

given to the world the power to make itself learned. It is much easier

to disseminate what is called the spirit of education, than it was to

create that spirit, and preserve it when there were few to do it homage.

For this we are indebted to the schools. Unobserved in the process of

change, but happy in its results, the business of education is not now

confined to professional teachers.

The greatest change of all has been wrought by the attention given to

female education, so that the mother of this generation is not compelled

to rely exclusively upon the school and the paid teacher, public or

private, but can herself, as the teacher ordained by nature, aid her

children in the preparatory studies of life. This power does not often

manifest itself in a regular system of domestic school studies and

discipline, but its influence is felt in a higher home preparation, and

in the exhibition of better ideas of what a school should be. And we may

assume, with all due respect to our maternal ancestry, that this fact is

a modern feature, comparatively, in American civilization. Female

education has given rise to some excesses of opinion and conduct; but

the world is entirely safe, especially the self-styled lords of

creation, and may wisely advocate a system of general education without

regard to sex, and leave the effect to those laws of nature and

revelation which are to all and in all, and cannot permanently be

avoided or disobeyed.

The number of educators has strangely increased, and they often appear

where they might least be expected. We speak of the revival of

education, and think only of the change that has taken place in the last

twenty years in the appropriations of money, the style of school-houses,

and the fitness of professional teachers for the work in which they are

engaged; but these changes, though great, are scarcely more noteworthy

than those that have occurred in the management of our shops, mills, and

farms. When we write the sign or utter the sound which symbolizes

_Teacher_, what figure, being, or qualities, are brought before us? We

_should_ see a person who, in the pursuit of knowledge, is self-moving,

and, in the exercise of the influence which knowledge gives, is able to

appreciate the qualities of others; and who, moreover, possesses enough

of inventive power to devise means by which he can lead pupils,

students, or hearers, in the way they ought to go. We naturally look for

such persons in the lecture-room, the school, and the pulpit. And we

find them there; but they are also to be found in other places. There

are thousands of such men in America, engaged in the active pursuits of

the day. They are farmers, mechanics, merchants, operatives. They do not

often follow text-books, and therefor are none the worse, but much the

better teachers. Insensibly they have taken on the spirit of the teacher

and the school, and, apparently ignorant of the fact, are, in the quiet

pursuits of daily life, leaders of classes following some great thought,

or devoted to some practical investigation. And in one respect these

teachers are of a higher order than _some_--not all, nor most--of our

professional teachers. They never cease to be students. When a man or

woman puts on the garb of the teacher, and throws off the garb of the

student, you will soon find that person so dwindled and dwarfed, that

neither will hang upon the shoulders. This happens sometimes in the

school, but never in the world.

The last twenty-five years have produced two new features in our

civilization, that are at once a cause and a product of learning. I

speak of the Press, and of Associations for mutual improvement.

The newspaper press of America, having its centre in the city of New

York, is more influential than the press of any other country. It may

not be conducted with greater ability; though, if compared with the

English press, the chief difference unfavorable to America is found in

the character of the leading editorial articles. In enterprise, in

telegraphic business, maritime, and political news and information, the

press of the United States is not behind that of Great Britain.

It must, however, be admitted that a given subject is usually more

thoroughly discussed in a single issue from the English press; but it is

by no means certain that public questions are, upon the whole, better

canvassed in England than in America. Indeed, the opposite is probably

true. Our press will follow a subject day after day, with the aid of

new thoughts and facts, until it is well understood by the reader.

European ideas of journalism cannot be followed blindly by the press of

America. The journalist in Europe writes for a select few. His readers

are usually persons of leisure, if they have not always culture and

taste; and the issue of the morning paper is to them what the appearance

of the quarterly, heavy or racy, is to the cultivated American reader.

But the American journalist, whatever his taste may be, cannot afford to

address himself to so small an audience. He writes literally for the

million; for I take it to be no exaggeration to say that paragraphs and

articles are often read by millions of people in America. This fact is

an important one, as it furnishes a good test of the standard taste and

learning of the people. Our press answers the demand which the people

make upon it. The mass of newspaper readers are not, in a scholastic

sense, well-educated persons. Newspaper writers do not, therefore,

trouble themselves about the colleges with their professors, but they

seek rather to gain the attention and secure the support of the great

body of the people, who know nothing of colleges except through the

newspapers. We have always been permitted to infer the intellectual and

moral character of the audiences of Demosthenes, from the orations of

Demosthenes; and may we not also infer the character of the American

people, from the character of the press that they support? In a single

issue may often be found an editorial article upon some question of

present interest; a sermon, address, or speech, from a leading mind of

the country or the world; letters from various quarters of the globe;

extracts from established literary and scientific journals; original

essays upon political, literary, scientific, and religious subjects; and

items of local or general interest for all classes of readers. This

product of the press, in quantity and quality, could not be distributed,

week after week, and year after year, among an ignorant class of people.

It could be accepted by intelligent, thinking, progressive minds only;

and, as a fact necessarily coëxisting, we find the newspaper press

equally essential to the best-educated persons among us. The newspaper

press in America is a century and a half old; but its power does not

antedate this century, and its growth has been chiefly within the last

twenty-five years. What that growth has been may be easily seen by any

one who will compare the daily sheet of the last generation with the

daily sheet of this; and the future of the American press may be easily

predicted by those who consider the progressive influences among us, of

which the newspaper must always be the truest representative.

Within the same brief period of time it has become the fixed custom of

the people to associate together for educational objects.

As a consequence, we have the lyceum for all, libraries for all,

professional institutes and clubs for merchants, mechanics, and farmers,

and, at last, free libraries and lectures for the operatives in the

mills. Where these institutions can exist, there must be a high order of

general learning; and where these institutions do exist, and are

sustained, the learning of the people, whether high or low at any given

moment, must be rapidly improved. Yet some of these agencies--lectures

and libraries, for example--are not free from serious faults. It may

seem rash and indefensible to criticize lectures upon the platform of

the lecturer; but, as the audience can inflict whatever penalty they

please upon the speaker, he will so far assume responsibility as to say

that amusement is not the highest object of a single lecture, and when

sought by managers as the desirable object of a whole course, the

lecture-room becomes a theatre of dissipation; surely not so bad as

other forms of dissipation, but yet so distinctly marked, and so

pernicious in its influence, as to be comparatively unworthy of general

support. Let it not, however, be inferred that wit, humor, and drollery

even, are to be excluded from the lecture-room; but they should always

be employed as means by which information is communicated. Between

lecturers equal in other respects, one with the salt of humor, native to

the soil, should be preferred; but it is a sad reflection upon public

taste, when a person whose entire intellectual capital is wit, humor, or

buffoonery, is preferred to men of solid learning. But it is a worse

view of human nature, when men of real merit and worth depreciate

themselves and lower the public taste, by attempting to do what, at

best, they can have but ill success in, and what they would despise

themselves for, were they to succeed completely. Shakspeare says of a

jester:

"This fellow's wise enough to play the fool;

And to do that well, craves a kind of wit:

* * * * *

This is a practice

As full of labor as a wise man's art:

For folly, that he wisely shows, is fit;

But wise men, folly-fallen, quite taint their wit."

A kindred mental dissipation follows in the steps of progress, and

demands aliment from our public libraries. In the selection of books

there is a wide range, from the trashy productions of the fifth-rate

novelist, to stately history and exact science. It is, however, to be

assumed that libraries will not be established until they are wanted,

and that the want will not be pressing until there is a taste for

reading somewhat general. Where this taste exists, it is fair to assume

that it is in some degree elevated. The direction, however, which the

taste of any community is to take, after the establishment of a public

library, depends, in a great degree, upon the selection of books for its

shelves. Two dangers are to be avoided. The first, and greatest, is the

selection of books calculated to degrade the morals or intellect of the

reader. This danger is apparent, and to be shunned needs but to be seen.

Books, of more or less intrinsic value, are so abundant and cheap, that

common men must go out of their way to gather a large collection that

shall not contain works of real merit. But the object should be to

exclude all worthless and pernicious works, and meet and improve the

public taste, by offering it mental food better than that to which it

has been accustomed. The other danger is negative, rather than positive;

but, as books are comparatively worthless when they are not read, it

becomes a matter of great moment to select such as will touch the public

mind at a few points, at least. It is indeed possible, and, under the

guidance of some persons, it would be natural, to encumber the shelves

of a library with _good books_ that might ever remain so, saving only

the contributions made to mould and mice.

Now, if you will pardon a little more fault-finding,--which is, I

confess, a quality without merit, or, as Byron has it,

"A man must serve his time to every trade

Save censure--critics all are ready made,"--

I will hazard the opinion that the practice of establishing libraries in

towns for the benefit of a portion of the inhabitants only is likely to

prove pernicious in the end. To be sure, reading for some is better than

reading for none; but reading for all is better than either. In

Massachusetts there is a general law that permits cities and towns to

raise money for the support of libraries; yet the legislature, in a few

cases, has granted charters to library associations. With due deference,

it may very well be suggested, that, where a spirit exists which leads a

few individuals to ask for a charter, it would be better to turn this

spirit into a public channel, that all might enjoy its benefits. And it

will happen, generally, that the establishment of a public library will

be less expensive to the friends of the movement, and the advantages

will be greater; while there will be an additional satisfaction in the

good conferred upon others.

We shall act wisely if we apply to books a maxim of the Greeks: "All

things in common amongst friends." Under this maxim Cicero has

enumerated, as principles of humanity, not to deny one a little running

water, or the lighting his fire by ours, if he has occasion; to give the

best counsel we are able to one who is in doubt or distress; which, says

he, "are things that do good to the person that receives them, and are

no loss or trouble to him that confers them." And he quotes, with

approbation, the words of Ennius:

"He that directs the wandering traveller

Doth, as it were, light another's torch by his own;

Which gives him ne'er the less of light, for that

It gave another."

A good book is a guide to the reader, and a well-selected library will

be a guide to many. And shall we give a little running water, and turn

aside or choke up the streams of knowledge? light the evening torch, and

leave the immortal mind unillumined? give free counsel to the ignorant

or distressed, when he might easily be qualified to act as his own

counsellor? In July 1856, Mr. Everett gave five hundred dollars toward a

library for the High School in his native town of Dorchester; and in

1854 Mr. Abbott Lawrence gave an equal sum to his native town for the

establishment of a public library. These are not large donations, if we

consider only the amount of money given; but it is difficult to suggest

any other equal appropriation that would be as beneficial, in a public

sense. These donations are noble, because conceived in a spirit of

comprehensive liberality. They are examples worthy of imitation; and I

venture to affirm, there is not one of our New England towns that has

not given to the world a son able to make a similar contribution to the

cause of general learning. Is it too much to believe that a public

library in a town will double the number of persons having a taste for

reading, and consequently double the number of well-educated people?

For, though we are not educated by mere reading, it is yet likely to

happen that one who has a taste for books will also acquire habits of

observation, study, and reflection.

Professional institutes and clubs also serve to increase the sum of

general learning. They have thus far avoided the evil which has waited

or fastened upon similar associations in Europe,--subserviency to

political designs. Every profession or interest of labor has peculiar

ideas and special purposes. These ideas and purposes may be wisely

promoted by distinct organizations. Who can doubt the utility of

associations of merchants, mechanics, and farmers? They furnish

opportunities for the exchange of opinions, the exhibition of products,

the dissemination of ideas, and the knowledge of improvements, that are

thus wisely made the property of all. Knowledge begets knowledge. What

is the distinguishing fact between a good school and a poor one? Is it

not, that in a good school the prevailing public sentiment is on the

side of knowledge and its acquisition? And does not the same fact

distinguish a learned community from an ignorant community? If, in a

village or city of artisans, each one makes a small annual contribution

to the general stock of knowledge, the aggregate progress will be

appreciable, and, most likely, considerable. If, on the other hand, each

one plods by himself, the sum of professional knowledge cannot be

increased, and is likely to be diminished.

The moral of the parable of the ten talents is eminently true in matters

of learning. "Unto every one that hath shall be given, and he shall have

abundance: but from him that hath not shall be taken away even that

which he hath." We cannot conceive of a greater national calamity than

an industrial population delving in mental sluggishness at unrelieved

and unchanging tasks. The manufacture of pins was commenced in England

in 1583, and for two hundred and fifty years she had the exclusive

control of the trade; yet all that period passed away without

improvement, or change in the process; while in America the business was

revolutionized, simplified, and economized one-half, in the period of

five years. In 1840 the valuation of Massachusetts was about three

hundred millions of dollars; but it is certain that a large portion of

this sum should have been set off against the constant impoverishment of

the land, commencing with the settlement of the state,--the natural and

unavoidable result of an ignorant system of farm labor. The revival of

education in America was soon followed by a marked improvement in the

leading industries of the people, and especially in the department of

agriculture. The principle of association has not yet been as beneficial

to the farmers as to the mechanics; but the former are soon to be

compensated for the delay. With the exception of the business of

discovering small planets, which seem to have been created for the

purpose of exciting rivalry among a number of enthusiastic, well-minded,

but comparatively secluded gentlemen, agricultural learning has made the

most marked progress in the last ten years. But an agricultural

population is professionally an inert population; and, therefore, as in

the accumulation of John Jacob Astor's fortune, it was more difficult to

take the first step than to make all the subsequent movements. Now,

however, the principle of association is giving direction and force to

the labors of the farmer; and it is easy for any person to draw to

himself, in that pursuit, the results of the learning of the world.

Libraries and lectures for the operatives in the manufactories

constitute another agency in the cause of general learning. The city of

Lawrence, under the lead of well-known public-spirited gentlemen there,

has the honor of introducing the system in America. A movement, to which

this is kindred, was previously made in England; but that movement had

for its object the education of the operatives in the simple elements of

learning, and among the females in a knowledge of household duties. An

English writer says: "Many employers have already established schools in

connection with their manufactories. From many instances before us, we

may take that of Mr. Morris, of Manchester, who has risen, himself, from

the condition of a factory operative, and who has felt in his own person

the disadvantages under which that class of workmen labor. He has

introduced many judicious improvements. He has spent about one hundred

and fifty pounds in ventilating his mills; and has established a

library, coffee-room, class-room, weekly lectures, and a system of

industrial training. The latter has been established for females, of

whom he employs a great many. This class of girls generally go to the

mills without any knowledge of household duties; they are taught in the

schools to sew, knit," etc.

But, in the provision made at Lawrence for intellectual culture, it is

assumed, very properly, that the operatives are familiar with the

branches usually taught in the public schools. This could not be assumed

of an English manufacturing population, nor, indeed, of any town

population, considered as a whole. Herein America has an advantage over

England. Our laborers occupy a higher standpoint intellectually, and in

that proportion their labors are more effective and economical. The

managers and proprietors at Lawrence were influenced by a desire to

improve the condition of the laborers, and had no regard to any

pecuniary return to themselves, either immediate or remote. And it would

be a sufficient satisfaction to witness the growth of knowledge and

morality, thereby elevating society, and rendering its institutions more

secure.

These higher results will be accompanied, however, by others of

sufficient importance to be considered. When we _hire_, or, what is,

for this inquiry, the same thing, _buy_ that commodity called, _labor_,

what do we expect to get? Is it merely the physical force, the animal

life contained in a given quantity of muscle and bone? In ordinary cases

we expect these, but in all cases we expect something more. We sometimes

buy, and at a very high cost, too, what has, as a product, the least

conceivable amount of manual labor in it,--a professional opinion, for

example; but we never buy physical strength merely, nor physical

strength at all, unless it is directed by some intellectual force. The

descending stream has power to drive machinery, and the arm of the idiot

has force for some mechanical service, but they equally lack the

directing mind. We are not so unwise as to purchase the power of the

stream, or the force of the idiot's arm; but we pay for its application

in the thing produced, and we often pay more for the skill that has

directed the power than for the power itself. The river that now moves

the machinery of a factory in which many scores of men and women find

their daily labor, and earn their daily bread, was employed a hundred

years ago in driving a single set of mill-stones; and thus a man and boy

were induced to divide their time lazily between the grist in the hopper

and the fish under the dam. The river's power has not changed; but the

inventive, creative genius of man has been applied to it, and new and

astonishing results are produced. With man himself this change has been

even greater. In proportion to the population of the country, we are

daily dispensing with manual labor, and yet we are daily increasing the

national production. There is more mind directing the machinery

propelled by the forces of nature, and more mind directing the machinery

of the human body. The result is, that a given product is furnished by

less outlay of physical force. Formerly, with the old spinning-wheel and

hand-loom, we put a great deal of bone and muscle into a yard of cloth;

now we put in very little. We have substituted mind for physical force,

and the question is, which is the more economical? Or, in other words,

is it of any consequence to the employer whether the laborer is ignorant

or intelligent?

Before we discuss this point abstractly, let us notice the conduct of

men. Is any one willing to give an ignorant farm laborer as much as he

is ready to pay for the services of an intelligent man? And if not, why

the distinction? And if an ignorant man is not the best man upon a farm,

is he likely to be so in a shop or mill? And if not, we see how the

proprietors of factories are interested in elevating the standard of

learning, in the mills and outside. But they are not singular in this.

All classes of employers are equally concerned in the education of the

laborer; for learning not only makes his labor more valuable to himself,

but the market price of the product is generally reduced, and the change

affects favorably all interests of society. This benefit is one of the

first in point of time, and the one, perhaps, most appreciable of all

which learning has conferred upon the laborer. As each laborer, with the

same expenditure of physical force, produces a greater result, of course

the aggregate products of the world are vastly increased, although they

represent only the same number of laborers that a less quantity would

have represented under an ignorant system.

The division of these products upon any principle conceivable leaves for

the laborer a larger quantity than he could have before commanded; for,

although the share of the wealthy may be disproportionate, their ability

to consume is limited; and, as poverty is the absence or want of things

necessary and convenient for the purposes of life, according to the

ideas at the time entertained, we see how a laboring population,

necessarily poor while ignorance prevails, is elevated to a position of

greater social and physical comfort, as mind takes the place of brute

force in the industries of the world. Learning, then, is not the result

of social comfort, but social comfort is the product of intelligence,

and increases or diminishes as intelligence is general or limited. It is

not, however, to be taken as granted that each laborer's position

corresponds or answers to the sum of his own knowledge. It might happen

that an ignorant laborer would enjoy the advantages of a general

culture, to which he contributed little or nothing; and it must of

necessity also happen that an intelligent laborer, in the midst of an

ignorant population, as in Ireland or India, for example, would be

compelled to accept, in the main, the condition of those around him. But

there is no evidence on the face of society now, or in its history, that

an ignorant population, whether a laboring population or not, has ever

escaped from a condition of poverty. And the converse of the proposition

is undoubtedly true, that an intelligent laboring community will soon

become a wealthy community. Learning is sure to produce wealth; wealth

is likely to contribute to learning, but it does not necessarily produce

it. Hence it follows that learning is the only means by which the poor

can escape from their poverty.

In this statement it is assumed that education does not promote vice;

and not only is this negative assumption true, but it is safe to assume,

further, that education favors virtue, and that any given population

will be less vicious when educated than when ignorant. This, I cannot

doubt, is a general truth, subject, of course, to some exceptions.

The educational struggle in which the English people are now engaged has

made distinct and tangible certain opinions and impressions that are

latent in many minds. There has been an attempt to show that vice has

increased in proportion to education. This attempt has failed, though

there may be found, of course, in all countries, single facts, or

classes of facts, that seem to sustain such an opinion.

Now, suppose this case,--and neither this case nor any similar one has

ever occurred in real life,--but suppose crime to increase as a people

were educated, though there should be no increase of population; would

this fact prove that learning made men worse? By no means. Our answer is

apparent on the face of the change itself. By education, the business,

and pecuniary relations and transactions of a people are almost

indefinitely multiplied; and temptations to crime, especially to crimes

against property, are multiplied in an equal ratio. Would person or

property be better respected in New York or Boston, if the most ignorant

population of the world could be substituted for the present

inhabitants of those cities? The business nerves of men are frequently

shocked by some unexpected defalcation, and short-sighted moralists, who

lack faith, exclaim, "All this is because men know so much!" Such

certainly forget that for every defaulter in a city there are hundreds

of honest men, who receive and render justly unto all, and hold without

check the fortunes of others. So Mr. Drummond argued in the British

House of Commons against a national system of education, because what he

was pleased to call _instruction_ had not saved William Palmer and John

Sadlier. But the truth in this matter is not at the bottom of a well; it

is upon the surface. Where it is the habit of society generally to be

ignorant, you will find it the necessity of that society to be poor; and

where ignorance and poverty both abound, the temptations to crime are

unquestionably few, but the power to resist temptation is as

unquestionably weak. The absence of crime is owing to the absence of

temptation, rather than to the presence of virtue. Such a condition of

society is as near to real virtue as the mental weakness of the idiot is

to true happiness.

Turning again to the discussion in the British Parliament of April,

1856, we are compelled to believe that some English statesmen are, in

principle and in their ideas of political economy, where a portion of

the English cotton-spinners were a hundred years ago. The

cotton-spinners thought the invention of labor-saving machinery would

deprive them of bread; and a Mr. Ball gravely argues that schools will

so occupy the attention of children, that the farmers' crops will be

neglected. I am inclined to give you his own words; and I have no doubt

you will be in a measure relieved of the dulness of this essay, when you

listen to what was actually cheered, in the British Commons. Speaking of

the resolutions in favor of a national system of instruction, Mr. Ball

said: "It was important to consider what would be their bearing on the

agricultural districts of the country. He had obtained a return from his

own farm, and, supposing the principles advocated by the noble lord were

adopted, the results would be perfectly fearful. The following was the

return he had obtained from his agent: William Chapman, ten years a

servant on his (Mr. Ball's) farm; his own wages thirteen shillings,

besides a house; he had seven children, who earned nine shillings a

week; making together twenty-two shillings a week. Robert Arbor, fifteen

years on the farm; wages thirteen shillings a week, and a house; six

children, who earned six shillings a week; making together nineteen

shillings. John Stevens, thirty-three years a servant on the farm; his

own wages fourteen shillings a week; he had brought up ten children,

whose average earnings had been twelve shillings weekly, making together

twenty-six shillings a week. Robert Carbon, twenty-two years a servant

on the farm; wages thirteen shillings a week; having ten children, who

earned ten shillings a week; making together twenty-three shillings a

week. Thus it appeared that in these four families the fathers earned

fifty-three shillings weekly, and the children thirty-seven shillings a

week; so that the children earned something more than two-thirds of the

amount of the earnings of the fathers. He would ask the house, if the

fathers were to be deprived of the earnings of the children, how could

they provide bread for them? It was perfectly impossible. They must

either increase the parent's wages to the amount of the loss he thus

sustained, or they must make it up to him from a rate. Then, again,

those who were at all conversant with agriculture knew that if they

deprived the farmer of the labor of children, agriculture could not be

carried on. There was no machinery by which they could get the weeds out

of the land."--_London Times_.

The light which this statement furnishes is not hid under a bushel. The

argument deserves a more logical form, and I proceed gratuitously to

give the author the benefit of a scientific arrangement. "If a national

system of education is adopted, the children of my tenants will be sent

to school; if the children of my tenants are sent to school, my turnips

will not be weeded; if my turnips are not weeded, I shall eat fat mutton

no more."

After this from a statesman, we need not wonder that a correspondent of

Lord John Russell writes, "That a farmer near him has been heard to say,

he would not give anything to a day-school; he finds that since

Sunday-schools have been established the birds have increased and eat

his corn, and because he cannot now procure the services of the boys,

whom he used to employ the whole of Sunday, in protecting his

fields."--_London Times, April 13th, 1856._

Now, I do not go to England for the purpose of making an attack upon her

opinions; but, as kindred ideas prevail among us, though to a limited

extent only, the folly of them may be seen in persons at a distance,

when it would not be realized by ourselves. Moreover, the presentation

of these somewhat ridiculous notions brings ridicule upon a whole class

of errors; and when errors are so ingrained that men cannot reason in

regard to them, ridicule is often the only weapon of successful attack.

And it is no compliment to an American audience for the speaker to say

that their own minds already suggest the refutation which these errors

demand. If the chief end of man, for which boyhood should be a

preparation, were to weed turnips or to frighten blackbirds from

corn-fields, then surely the objection of Mr. Ball, and the complaint

and spirit of resistance offered by Lord John Russell's farmer, would be

eminently proper. But Lord John Russell did not himself assent to the

view furnished by his correspondent. Mr. Ball's theory evidently is,

"Take good care of the turnips, and leave the culture of the boys and

girls to chance;" and Lord John Russell's wise farmer unquestionably

thinks that cereal peculations of blackbirds are more dangerous than the

robberies committed by neglected children, grown to men.

Mr. Clay, chaplain of Preston jail, says: "Thirty-six per cent. come

into jail unable to say the Lord's Prayer; and seventy-two per cent.

come in such a state of moral debasement that it is in vain to give them

instruction, or to teach them their duty, since they cannot understand

the meaning of the words used to them." Here we have, as cause and

effect, the philosophy of Mr. Ball, and the facts of Mr. Clay. And,

further, this philosophy is as bad in principle, when tried by the rules

of political economy, as when subjected to moral and Christian tests.

Mr. Ball says there is no machinery by which the farmers can get the

weeds out of the land. This may be true; and once there was no

machinery by which they could get the seed into the land, or the crops

from it. Once there was little or no inventive power among the

mechanics, or scientific knowledge, or even spirit of inquiry, among the

farmers. How have these changes been wrought? By education, surely, and

that moral and religious culture for which secular education is a fit

preparation. The contributions of learning to labor, in a pecuniary

aspect alone, have far exceeded the contributions of labor to learning.

It is impossible to enumerate the evidences in support of this

statement, but single facts will give us some conception of their

aggregated value and force.

It was stated by Mr. Flint, Secretary of the Massachusetts Board of

Agriculture, in his Annual Report for 1855, "That the saving to the

country, from the improvements in ploughs alone, within the last

twenty-five years, has been estimated at no less than ten millions of

dollars a year in the work of teams, and one million in the price of

ploughs, while the aggregate of the crops is supposed to have been

increased by many millions of bushels." From this fact, as the

representative of a great class of facts, we may safely draw two

conclusions. First, these improvements are the products of learning, the

contribution which learning makes to labor, far exceeding in amount any

tax which the cause of learning, in schools or out, imposes upon labor.

Secondly, we see that a given amount of adult labor upon a farm, with

the help of the improved implements of industry, will accomplish more in

1856, than the same amount of adult labor, with its attendant juvenile

force, could have accomplished in 1826. If we were fully to illustrate

and sustain the latter inference, we should be required to review the

improvements made in other implements of farming, as well as in ploughs.

Their positive pecuniary value, when considered in the aggregate, is too

vast for general belief; and in England alone it must exceed the

anticipated cost of a system of public instruction, say six millions of

pounds, or thirty millions of dollars, per year. But learning, as we

have defined it, has contributed less to farming than to other

departments of labor.

The very existence of manufactures presupposes the existence of

learning. There is no branch of manufactures without its appropriate

machine; and every machine is the product of mind, enlarged and

disciplined by some sort of culture. The steam engine, the

spinning-jenny, the loom, the cotton-gin, are notable instances of the

advantages derived by manufacturing industry from the prevalence of

learning. It was stated by Chief Justice Marshall, about thirty years

ago, that Whitney's cotton-gin had saved five hundred millions of

dollars to the country; and the saving, upon the same basis, cannot now

be less than one thousand millions of dollars,--a sum too great for the

human imagination to conceive. When we contemplate these achievements of

mind, by which manual labor has been diminished, and every physical

force both magnified and economized, how unstatesmanlike is the view

which regards a human being as a bundle of muscles and bones merely,

with no destiny but ignorance, servitude, and poverty!

Ancient commerce, if we omit to notice the conjecture that the mariner's

compass was in possession of the old Phoenician and Indian navigators,

reproduced, rather than invented, in modern times, did not rest upon any

enlarged scientific knowledge; but, in this era, many of the sciences

contribute to the extension and prosperity of trade. After what has been

accomplished by science, and especially by physical geography, for

commerce and navigation, we have reason to expect a system, based upon

scientific knowledge and principles, which shall render the highway of

nations secure against the disasters that have often befallen those who

go down to the sea in ships. Science gave to the world the steamship,

which promised for a time to engross the entire trade upon the ocean;

but science again appears, constructs vessels upon better scientific

principles, traces out the path of currents in the water and the air,

and thus restores the rival powers of wind and steam to an equality of

position in the eye of the merchant. Will any one say that all this

inures to capital, and leaves the laborer comparatively unrewarded? We

are accustomed to use the word prosperity as synonymous with

accumulation; and yet, in a true view, a man may be prosperous and

accumulate nothing. Suppose we contrast two periods in the life of a

nation with each other. Since the commencement of this century, the

wages of a common farm laborer in America have increased seventy-five or

one hundred per cent., while the articles necessary and convenient for

his use have, upon the whole, diminished in price. Admit that there was

nothing for accumulation in the first period, and that there is nothing

for accumulation now,--is not his condition nevertheless improved? And,

if so, has he not participated in the general prosperity?

Indeed, we may all accept the truth, that there is no exclusiveness in

the benefits which learning confers; and this leads me to say, next,

that there ought to be no exclusiveness in the enjoyment of educational

privileges.

In America we agree to this; and yet, confessedly, as a practical result

we have not generally attained the end proposed. There are two practical

difficulties in the way. First, our aim in a system of public

instruction is not high enough; and, secondly, we do not sufficiently

realize the importance of educating each individual. Our aim is not high

enough; and the result, like every other result, is measured and limited

by the purpose we have in view. Our public schools ought to be so good

that private schools for instruction in the ordinary branches would

disappear. Mr. Everett said, in reply to inquiries made by Mr.

Twistleton, "I send my boy to the public school, because I know of none

better." It should be the aim of the public to make their schools so

good that no citizen, in the education of his children, will pass them

by.

It is as great a privilege for the wealthy as for the poor to have an

opportunity to send their children to good public schools. It is a maxim

in education that the teacher must first comprehend the pupil mentally

and morally; and might not many of the errors of individual and public

life be avoided, if the citizen, from the first, were to have an

accurate idea of the world in which he is to live? The demand of labor

upon education, as they are connected with every material interest of

society, is, that no one shall be neglected. The mind of a nation is

its capital. We are accustomed to speak of money as capital; and

sometimes we enlarge the definition, and include machinery, tools,

flocks, herds, and lands. But for this moment let us do what we have a

right to do,--go behind the definitions of lexicographers and political

economists, and say, "_capital_ is the producing force of society, and

that force is mind." Without this force, money is nothing; machinery is

nothing; flocks, herds, lands, are nothing. But all these are made

valuable and efficient by the power of mind. What we call

civilization,--passing from an inferior to a superior condition of

existence,--is a mental and moral process. If mind is the capital,--the

producing force of society,--what shall we say of the person or

community that neglects its improvement? Certainly, all that we should

say of the miser, and all that was said of the timid servant who buried

his talent in the earth. If one mind is neglected, then we fail as a

generation, a state, a nation, as members of the human family, to answer

the highest purposes of existence. Some possible good is unaccomplished,

some desirable labor is unperformed, some means of progress is

neglected, some evil seed, it may be, is sown, for which this generation

must answer to all the successions of men. But let us not yield to the

prejudice, though sanctioned by custom, that learning unfits men for

the labors of life. The _schools_ may sometimes do this, but _learning_

never. We cannot, however, conceal from our view the fact that this

prejudice is a great obstacle to progress, even in New England; an

obstacle which may not be overcome without delay and conflict, in many

states of this Union; and especially in Great Britain is it an obstacle

in the way of those who demand a system of universal education.

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