Another instance of even greater power lies in the co-operation

between the pioneers of the University Extension Movement at Cambridge

and the working men, particularly of Rochdale and Nottingham, to be

followed later by that unprecedented revival of learning amongst

working people which took place in Northumberland and Durham in the

days before the great coal strike. At a later date, in 1903, the same

kind of united action gave rise to the movement of the Workers'

Educational Association, which has always conceived its purpose to be

the development of citizenship in and through education pursued in

common by university man and working man alike. The system of

University Tutorial Classes originated by this Association has been

based upon an ideal of citizenship, and not primarily upon a

determination to acquire knowledge, although it was clearly seen that

vague aspirations towards good citizenship without the harnessing of

all available knowledge to its cause would be futile. After exception

has been made for the body of young men and women who are determined

to acquire technical education for the laudable purpose of advancing

both their position in life and their utility to society, it is clear

that no educational appeal to working men and women will have the

least effect if it is not directed towards the purpose of enriching

their life, and through them the life of the community. The proof of

this lies in the fact that, after they have striven together for years

in Tutorial Classes, they ask for no recognition--in fact they have

declined it when it has been offered--and have devoted their powers to

voluntary civic work and the work of the associations or unions to

which they belong, as well as in very many instances, to the spreading

of education throughout the districts in which they live. It is

largely due to the leaven of educational enthusiasm which has thus

been generated that there is a unanimous movement on the part of

working people towards a complete educational system including within

it compulsory attendance at continuation schools during the day.

The problems that hedge about continuation schools are many, but it is

clear that they will be regarded by educationists and by at least some

employers as above all else training for citizenship based upon the

vocation to which the boy or girl may be devoting himself or herself

in working hours. The narrowness of the daily occupation, divorced as

it is from the whole spirit and intent of apprenticeship, will be

broadened directly the consideration of daily work is placed in the

continuation school both on a higher plane and in a complete setting.

The compulsory evening school will fail unless it induces a demand for

recreation of a pure kind which may be associated with the voluntary

evening school and continued along the lines of study into the years

of adult life. And even if it is impossible for every student of

capacity in the continuation school to pass into the university or

technological college, it may be hoped that there need not fail to be

opportunities for reaching the heights of ascertained knowledge in the

University Tutorial Class. In the future, as now, only in greater

degree, such classes will be regarded as an essential part of

university work, and will provide opportunity for the study of those

subjects which are most nearly related to citizenship.

It is one of the fundamental principles of the Workers' Educational

Association that every person, when not under the power of some

hostile over-mastering influence, is ready to respond to an

educational appeal. Not indeed that all are ready or able to become

scholars, but that all are anxious to look with understanding eyes at

the things which are pure and beautiful. Tired men and women are made

better citizens if they are taken, as they often are, to picture

galleries and museums, to places of historic interest and of scenic

beauty, and are helped to understand them by the power of a

sympathetic guide. It is by the extension of work of this sort, which

can be carried out almost to a limitless extent that the true purpose

of social reform will be best served. It is by such means that the

press may be elevated, the level of the cinema raised, the efforts of

the demagogue neutralised.

The Workers' Educational Association is based upon the work of the

elementary school and of the associations of working people, notably

the co-operative societies and trade unions. The democratic methods

obtaining in those associations have themselves proved a valuable

contribution to citizenship, and have determined the democratic nature

of all adult education. The right and freedom of the student to study

what he wishes finds its counterpart in the reasonable demand that man

shall live out his life as he wills, provided it moves in a true

direction and is in harmony with the needs and aspirations of his

fellows.

It has seemed in this review of the relation of schools and places of

education to the development of citizenship that the fact of the

operation of social influences has been implicit at every point. In

any case there is, and can be, no doubt that the school, whilst

instant in its effect upon the mind of the time, is always being

either hindered or helped by the conditions obtaining in the society

in which it is set. The relations existing between society and school

are revealed in a process of action and reaction. Wilhelm von

Humboldt said that "whatever we wish to see introduced into the life

of a nation must first be introduced into its schools." Among other

things, it is necessary to develop in the schools an appreciation of

all work that is necessary for human welfare. This is the crux of all

effort towards citizenship through education. In the long run there

can be no full citizenship unless there is fulness of intention to

discover capacity and to develop it not for the individual but for the

common good. This is primarily the task of an educational system. If a

man is set to work for which he is not fitted, whether it be the work

of a student or a miner, he is thwarted in his innate desire to attain

to the full expression of his being in and through association with

his fellow-men, whereas, when a man is doing the right work, that for

which he has capacity, he rejoices in his labour and strives

continually to perfect it by development of all his powers. The

exercise of good citizenship follows naturally as the inevitable

result of a rightly developed life. It may not be the citizenship

which is exercised by taking active and direct part in methods of

government. The son of Sirach, meditating on the place of the

craftsman, said:

All these trust to their hands: and every one is wise in his work.

Without these cannot a city be inhabited ... they will maintain the

state of the world, and all their desire is in the work of their

craft[4].

The times are different and the needs of people have changed, but the

true test of a citizen may be more in the healthiness of dominating

purpose than in the possession and satisfaction of a variety of

desires. To "maintain the state of the world" is no mean ambition.

If it is difficult for a man to become the good citizen when employed

on work for which he is unfitted, it is even more difficult for the

man to do so who is set to shoddy work or to work which damages the

community.

The task laid upon the school is heavy, but it does not stand alone.

The family and the Church are its natural allies in the modern State.

All alike will make mistakes, but, if they clearly set before them the

intention to do their utmost to free the capacity of all for the

accomplishment of the good of all, wisdom will increase and many

tragedies in life will be averted.

Thus lofty ideals have presented themselves, but they will secure

universal admission apart from the immediate practical considerations

which bulk so largely and often so falsely in the minds of men, and

which are frequently suggested by limitations of finance and lack of

faith in the all-sufficient power of wisdom.

It is in the consecration of a people to its highest ideals that the

true city and the true State become realised on earth and the measure

of its consecration, in spite of all devices of teaching or training

however wise, determines the true level of citizenship at any time in

any place.

[Footnote 1: _Wisdom of Solomon_, vii. 24.]

[Footnote 2: _Interim Report of the Consultative Committee of the

Board of Education on Scholarships for Higher Education_, 1916.]

[Footnote 3: J.R. Green, _A Short History of the English People_.]

[Footnote 4: _Ecclesiasticus_, xxxviii. 31-34.]

SOME BOOKS ON CITIZENSHIP

[1]American Political Science Assoc. The Teaching of Government. 1916.

Macmillan. 5s. 0d. net.

[1]BAKER, J.H. Educational Aims and Civic Needs. 1913. Longmans. 3s.

6d. net.

[1]BALCH, G.T. The Method of Teaching Patriotism in Public Schools.

1890. New York: Van Nostrand.

[1]BOURNE, H.E. The Teaching of History and Civics. 1915. Longmans.

6s. 0d. net.

[1]DEWEY, JOHN. Democracy and Education. 1916. Macmillan. 6s. 0d. net.

[1]DEWEY JOHN. The School and Society. 1915. Chicago Univ. Press. 4s.

0d. net.

[1]DEWEY, JOHN and EVELYN. Schools of To-Morrow. 1915. Dent. 5s. 0d.

net.

FINDLAY, J.J. The School. 1912. Williams and Norgate. 1s. 3d. net.

[1]HALL, G. STANLEY. Educational Problems. 2 vols. 1911. Appleton.

31s. 6d. net. Ch. 24. Civic Education.

[1]HENDERSON, C.H. Education and the Larger Life. 1902. Boston:

Houghton. 6s. 0d.

[1]HUGHES, E.H. The Teaching of Citizenship. 1909. Boston: Wilde. 6s.

0d.

HUGHES, M.L.V. Citizens To Be. 1915. Constable. 4s. 6d. net.

[1]JENKS, J.W. Citizenship and the Schools. 1909. New York: Holt. 6s.

0d.

KERSCHENSTEINER, GEORG. Education for Citizenship. Tr. A.J. Pressland.

1915. Harrap. 2s. 0d. net. The Schools and the Nation. 1914.

Macmillan. 6s. 0d. net.

[1]MONROE, PAUL. (Ed.) Cyclopedia of Education. 5 vols. Macmillan.

105s. 0d. net.

MORGAN, ALEXANDER. Education and Social Progress. 1916. Longmans. 3s.

6d. net.

Oxford and Working Class Education. Clarendon Press, 1s. net.

PATERSON, ALEXANDER. Across the Bridges. 1912. Arnold. 1s. 0d. net.

SADLER, M.E. (Ed.). Continuation Schools in England and Elsewhere.

1908. Manchester University Press. 8s. 6d. net.

SCOTT, C.A. Social Education. 1908. Ginn. 6s. 0d. net.

WALLAS, GRAHAM. The Great Society. 1914. Macmillan. 7s. 6d. net.

See also:

Board of Education. Reports.

Civics and Moral Education League Papers, 6 York Buildings, Adelphi,

W.C. 2.

[Footnote 1: American.]

VI

THE PLACE OF LITERATURE IN EDUCATION

By NOWELL SMITH

Head Master of Sherborne School

Education is a subject upon which everyone--or at least every

parent--considers himself entitled to have opinions and to express

them. But educational treatises or the considered views of educational

experts have a very limited popularity, and in fact arouse little

interest outside the circle of the experts themselves. Even the

average teacher, who is himself, if only he realised it, inside the

circle, pays little heed to the broader aspects of education, chiefly,

no doubt, because in the daily practice of the art of education he

cannot step aside and see it as a whole; he cannot see the wood for

the trees. The indifference of laymen however is mainly due to the

fact that educational theory, like other special subjects, inevitably

acquires a jargon of its own, an indispensable shorthand, as it were,

for experts, but far too abstract and technical for outsiders.

And his technical language too often reacts upon the actual ideas of

the educational theorist, who tends to lose sight of the variety of

concrete boys and girls in his abstract reasonings, necessary as these

are. We are apt to forget that what is sauce for the goose may not be

sauce for the gander, and still more perhaps that what is sauce for

the swan may not be sauce for either of these humbler but deserving

fowl. But it is certain that in discussing education we ought

constantly to envisage the actual individuals to be educated.

Otherwise our "average pupil of fifteen plus" is only too likely to

become a mere monster of the imagination, and the intellectual

_pabulum_, which we propose to offer, suited to the digestion of no

human boy or girl in "this very world, which is the world of all of

us."

In considering, then, the place of literature in education, I propose

to keep constantly before my eyes the people with whose education I am

personally familiar, namely, myself, my children, and the various

types of public school boy which I have known as boy, as

undergraduate, as college tutor and as schoolmaster. I say various

types of public school boy; for although there still is a public

school type in general which is easily recognisable by certain marked

superficial characteristics, the popular notion that all public school

boys are very much alike in character and outlook is a mere delusion.

Again, I propose, when I speak of literature, to mean literature, and

not a compendious term for anything that is not science. The

opposition that has in modern times been set up between science on the

one hand and a jumble of studies labelled either literary or

"humanistic" studies on the other is to my mind wholly unfounded in

the nature of things, and destructive of any liberal view of

education. It may perhaps be held that literature in its most literal

sense is a name for anything that is expressed by means of

intelligible language--a use of the word which certainly admits of no

comparison with the meaning of science, but which also leads to no

ideas of any educational interest. But I take the word literature in

its common acceptation; and, while admitting that I can give no

precise and exhaustive definition, I will venture to describe it as

the expression of thought or emotion in any linguistic forms which

have aesthetic value. Thus the subject-matter of literature is only

limited by experience: as Emile Faguet says somewhere--without

claiming to have made a discovery--_la littérature est une chose qui

touche à toutes choses_. And the tones of literature range from Isaiah

to Wycherley, from Thucydides to Tolstoy; its forms from Pindar to a

folk song, from Racine to Rudyard Kipling, from Gibbon to Herodotus or

Froissart. And while no two people would agree in drawing the line of

aesthetic value which should determine whether any given verbal

expression of thought or emotion was literature or not--a fact which

is not without importance in the choice of books for forming the taste

of our pupils--yet, for the purpose of discussing the place and

function of literature in education, we all know well enough what we

mean by the word in the general sense which I have attempted to

describe.

As this is not a tractate on education as a whole, I must risk

something for the sake of brevity, and will venture to lay down

dogmatically that the objects of literary studies as a part of

education are (1) the formation of a personality fitted for civilised

life, (2) the provision of a permanent source of pure and inalienable

pleasure, and (3) the immediate pleasure of the student in the process

of education. None of these objects is exclusive of either of the

others. They cannot in fact be separated in the concrete. But they are

sufficiently different to be treated distinctly.

(1) Hardly anyone would deny that some knowledge and appreciation of

literature is an indispensable part of a complete education. The full

member of a civilised society must be able to subscribe to the

familiar _Homo sum; nihil humanum a me alienum puto_. And literature

is obviously one of the greatest, most intense, and most prolific

interests of humanity. There have always been thinkers, from Plato

downwards, who for moral or political reasons have viewed the power of

literature with distrust: but their fear is itself evidence of that

power. Thus literature is a very important part both of the past and

of contemporary life, and no one can enter fully into either without

some real knowledge of it. A man may be a very great man or a very

good man without any literary culture; he may do his country and the

world imperishable services in peace or war. But the older the world

grows, the rarer must these unlettered geniuses become. Literature in

one form or another--too often no doubt put to vile uses--has become

so much part of the very texture of civilised life that a wide-awake

mind can scarcely fail to take notice of it. And in any case we need

not consider that kind of special genius which education does little

either to make or mar. No one is likely seriously to deny that for

taking a full and intelligent part in the normal life of a civilised

community--in love and friendship, in the family and in society, in

the study and practice of citizenship of all degrees--some literary

culture is absolutely necessary; nor indeed that, subject to a due

balance of qualities and acquirements, the wider and deeper the

literary culture the more valuable a member of society the possessor

will be. The lubricant of society in all its functions, whether of

business or leisure, is sympathy, and a sufficient quantity, as it

were, of sympathy to lubricate the complex mechanism of civilised life

can only be supplied by a widespread knowledge of the best, and a

great deal more than the best, of what has been and is being thought

and said in the world. Personal intercourse with one another and a

common apprehension of God as our Father are even more powerful

sources of sympathy; but literature provides innumerable channels for

the intercommunication and distribution of these sources, without

which the sympathies of individuals may be strong and lively, but will

almost always be narrowly circumscribed. It is very true that to know

mankind only through books is no knowledge of mankind at all; but ever

since man discovered how to perpetuate his utterances in writing it

has been increasingly true that literature is the principal means of

widening and deepening such knowledge.

This object of literary studies, the formation of a personality

fitted for civilised life, may be summed up in the familiar graceful

words of Ovid, who was thinking almost entirely of literature when he

wrote

ingenuas didicisse fideliter artes

Emollit mores nec sinit esse feros.

And it is only the lack, in so many of the greatest writers, and the

neglect, in so many educators and educational systems, of that due

balance of qualities and acquirements of which I spoke just now, which

have induced in superficial minds a distrust and often a contempt of

literature as a subject of education. The good citizen or man of the

world--in the best sense of the phrase--must not be the slave of

literary proclivities to the ruin of his functions as father or

husband or friend or man of action and affairs. The world of letters,

if lived in too exclusively, is an unreal world, though without it the

actual world is almost meaningless. Now the _genus irritabile vatum_,

even when their thoughts, as Carlyle put it, "enrich the blood of the

world," have very generally appeared to the plain man of goodwill as

very defective in the art of living. If their aspirations have been

above the standards of their day, their practice has often been below

them in such essentially social qualities as probity, faithfulness,

consideration for others. Moreover their outlook upon life, intense

and inspiring though it be, is often a very partial one. Even so, it

does not follow that because a poet or a philosopher is not in every

respect "the compleat gentleman," a citizen _totus teres atque

rotundus_, his works are not profitable for the building up of that

character. If it did, we must by parity of reasoning discard the

discoveries of a misanthropic inventor and the theories of a bigamous

chemist. We go to Plato and Catullus, to Shakespeare and Shelley, for

what they have to give: if we go with our own pet notions of what that

ought to be, we are naturally as disgusted as Herbert Spencer was with

Homer and Tolstoy with Shakespeare. Tolstoy is indeed a case in point.

He is one of the giants of literature, whose masterpieces are already

classics; and this position is unaffected by the various judgments

that may be formed either of his critical or of his practical wisdom.

The lack then of a due balance of qualities and acquirements in so

many authors, and we may add other artists, is a cause, but no

justification, of that belittlement and even distrust of the literary

side of education which are on the whole marked features of the

English attitude to-day. But a more potent cause and a real

justification of this attitude is the neglect of due balance of

qualities and acquirements by so many educators and educational

systems. Great educators have themselves rarely been narrow-minded

men; but the traditions they have founded have gone the way of all

traditions.

What begins as an inspiration hardens into a formula. The ideals of

the Renascence were caricatured in their offspring of the eighteenth

and nineteenth centuries. Not only did the evolution of modern life

with its cities, its printing press, its gunpowder, its steam engine

and the rest, destroy the need of the well-to-do to be trained in the

practical arts of chivalry, of the chase, of husbandry, even of music

and design, so that the bodily activities of boys became relegated to

the sphere of mere games and pastimes; but as books usurped more and

more of the hours of boyhood, so the instructors of youth fell more

and more into the fatally easy path of formal and grammatical

treatment. The subject-matter of education was indeed literature, and

the very noblest literatures, mainly those of Greece and Rome: but

there was little of literary or humane interest about the study of it;

its meaning and spirit were concealed from all but the few who could

surmount the fences of linguistic pedantry and artificial technique

with which it was surrounded.

I do not know when the expression "the dead languages" was invented:

but certainly Latin and Greek have been treated as very dead languages

by the great majority of teachers for a very long time. And as "modern

subjects," history, geography, modern languages and literatures,

gradually thrust their way into the curriculum, each was subjected as

far as possible to the same mummification. There is a theory still

widely held among teachers that the value of a subject or of a method

of instruction depends upon the amount of drudgery which it involves

or the degree of repulsion which it excites. The theory rests upon a

confusion between the ideas of discipline and punishment, which itself

is probably due to the strongly Judaistic tone of our so-called

Christianity. At any rate, far too many schoolmasters suffer from

conscientious scruples about allowing the spirits of freedom,

initiative, curiosity, enjoyment, to blow through their class-rooms.

There has been, always to some extent, but with gathering force in

recent years, a natural revolt against this mixture of puritanism,

scholasticism, and dilettantism, which made the intellectual side of

public school education such a failure except for the few who were

born with the spoon of scholarship in their mouths. The irruption of

that turbulent rascal, natural science, has perhaps had most to do

with humanising our humanistic studies. It was a great step when boys

who could not make verses were allowed to make if it was but a smell;

and even breaking a test-tube once in a while is more educative than

breaking the gender-rules every day of the week. Many of my friends,

who label themselves humanists, are in a panic about this, and look

upon me sadly as a renegade because I, who owe almost everything to a

"classical education," am ready (they think) to sell the pass of

"compulsory Greek" to a horde of money-grubbing barbarians who will

turn our flowery groves of Academe into mere factories of commercial

efficiency. But fear is a treacherous guide. They are the victims of

that abstract generalisation of which I spoke at the outset. I check

their forebodings by reference to concrete personalities, myself, my

children, and the hundreds of boys I have known. And I see more and

more plainly, as I study the infinite variety of our mental lineaments

and the common stock of human nature and civilised society which

unites us, that literature is a permanent and indispensable and even

inevitable element in our education; and that moreover it can only

have free scope and growth in the expanding personality of the young

in a due and therefore a varying harmony with other interests. I and

my children and my schoolboys have eyes and ears and hands--and even

legs! We have, as Aristotle rightly saw, an appetite for knowledge,

and that appetite cannot be satisfied, though it may be choked, by a

sole diet of literature. We have desires of many kinds demanding

satisfaction and requiring government. We have a sense of duty and

vocation: we know that we and our families must eat to live and to

carry on the race. We resent, in our inarticulate way, these sneers at

our Philistinism, commercialism, athleticism, materialism, from

dim-eyed pedants on the one hand and superior persons on the other,

who have evidently forgotten, if they ever saw, the whole purport of

that Greek literature the name of which they take in vain. No! _La

littérature est une chose qui touche à toutes choses_; but if we are

to shut our eyes to all the "things" which evoke it, it becomes what

it is to so many, whose education has been in name predominantly

literary, "a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying

nothing."

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