heart. Pieces must be written from memory, and the spelling, pointing,
&c., corrected by the pupil himself from the book. The same piece must
be written again and again, till there are no more mistakes to correct.
“This,” said Joseph Payne, who had himself taught in this way, “is the
best plan for spelling that has been devised.” Then the pupil may
write an analysis, may define words, distinguish between synonyms,
explain metaphors, imitate descriptions, write imaginary dialogues or
correspondence between the characters, &c. Besides these, a great variety
of grammatical exercises may be given, and the force of prefixes and
affixes may be found out by the pupils themselves by collection and
comparison. “The resources even of such a book as “Rasselas” will be
found all but exhaustless, while the training which the mind undergoes in
the process of thoroughly mastering it, the acts of analysis, comparison,
induction, and deduction, performed so frequently as to become a sort
of second nature, cannot but serve as an excellent preparation for the
subsequent study of English literature” (Payne).
§ 21. We see, from these instances, how Jacotot sought to imitate the
method by which young children and self-taught men teach themselves. All
such proceed from objects to definitions, from facts to reflections and
theories, from examples to rules, from particular observations to general
principles. They pursue, in fact, however unconsciously, the _method of
investigation_, the advantages of which are thus set out in a passage
from Burke’s treatise on the Sublime and Beautiful:—“I am convinced,”
says he, “that the method of teaching which approaches most nearly to
the method of investigation is incomparably the best; since, not content
with serving up a few barren and lifeless truths, it leads to the stock
on which they grew; it tends to set the reader [or learner] himself in
the track of invention, and to direct him into those paths in which the
author has made his own discoveries.” “For Jacotot, I think the claim
may, without presumption, be maintained that he has, beyond all other
teachers, succeeded in co-ordinating the method of elementary teaching
with the method of investigation” (Payne).
§ 22. The latter part of his life, which did not end till 1840, Jacotot
spent in his native country—first at Valenciennes, and then at Paris. To
the last he laboured indefatigably, and with a noble disinterestedness,
for what he believed to be the “intellectual emancipation” of his
fellow-creatures. For a time, his system made great way in France, but we
now hear little of it. Jacotot has, however, lately found an advocate in
M. Bernard Perez, who has written a book about him and also a very good
article in Buisson’s _Dictionnaire_.
XIX.
HERBERT SPENCER.[185]
§ 1. I once heard it said by a teacher of great ability that no one
without practical acquaintance with the subject could write anything
worth reading on Education. My own opinion differs very widely from this.
I am not, indeed, prepared to agree with another authority, much given
to paradox, that the actual work of education unfits a man for forming
enlightened views about it, but I think that the outsider, coming fresh
to the subject, and unencumbered by tradition and prejudice, may hit upon
truths which the teacher, whose attention is too much engrossed with
practical difficulties, would fail to perceive without assistance, and
that, consequently, the theories of intelligent men, unconnected with the
work of education, deserve our careful, and, if possible, our impartial
consideration.
§ 2. One of the most important works of this kind which has lately
appeared, is the treatise of Mr. Herbert Spencer. So eminent a writer
has every claim to be listened to with respect, and in this book he
speaks with more than his individual authority. The views he has very
vigorously propounded are shared by a number of distinguished scientific
men; and not a few of the unscientific believe that in them is shadowed
forth the education of the future.
§ 3. It is perhaps to be regretted that Mr. Spencer has not kept the
tone of one who investigates the truth in a subject of great difficulty,
but lays about him right and left, after the manner of a spirited
controversialist. This, no doubt, makes his book much more entertaining
reading than such treatises usually are, but, on the other hand, it has
the disadvantage of arousing the antagonism of those whom he would most
wish to influence. When the man who has no practical acquaintance with
education, lays down the law _ex cathedrâ_, garnished with sarcasms at
all that is now going on, the schoolmaster, offended by the assumed tone
of authority, sets himself to show where these theories would not work,
instead of examining what basis of truth there is in them, and how far
they should influence his own practice.
I shall proceed to examine Mr. Spencer’s proposals with all the
impartiality I am master of.
§ 4. The great question, whether the teaching which gives the most
valuable knowledge is the same as that which best disciplines the
faculties of the mind, Mr. Spencer dismisses briefly. “It would be
utterly contrary to the beautiful economy of nature,” he says, “if one
kind of culture were needed for the gaining of information, and another
kind were needed as a mental gymnastic.”[186] But it seems to me that
different subjects must be used to train the faculties at different
stages of development. The processes of science, which form the staple
of education in Mr. Spencer’s system cannot be grasped by the intellect
of a child. “The scientific discoverer does the work, and when it is
done the schoolboy is called in to witness the result, to learn its
chief features by heart, and to repeat them when called upon, just as
he is called on to name the mothers of the patriarchs, or to give an
account of the Eastern campaigns of Alexander the Great.”—(_Pall Mall
G._). This, however, affords but scanty training for the mind. We want
to draw out the child’s interests, and to direct them to worthy objects.
We want not only to teach him, but to enable and encourage him to teach
himself; and, if following Mr. Spencer’s advice, we make him get up the
species of plants, “which amount to some 320,000,” and the varied forms
of animal life, which are “estimated at some 2,000,000,” we may, as Mr.
Spencer tells us, have strengthened his memory as effectually as by
teaching him languages; but the pupil will, perhaps have no great reason
to rejoice over his escape from the horrors of the “As in Præsenti,” and
“Propria quæ Maribus.” The consequences will be the same in both cases.
We shall disgust the great majority of our scholars with the acquisition
of knowledge, and with the use of the powers of their mind. Whether,
therefore, we adopt or reject Mr. Spencer’s conclusion, that there is
one sort of knowledge which is universally the most valuable, I think we
must deny that there is one sort of knowledge which is universally and at
every stage in education, the best adapted to develop the intellectual
faculties. Mr. Spencer himself acknowledges this elsewhere. “There
is,” says he, “a certain sequence in which the faculties spontaneously
develop, and a certain kind of knowledge, which each requires during its
development.” It is for us to ascertain this sequence, and supply this
knowledge.
§ 5. Mr. Spencer discusses more fully “the relative value of knowledges,”
and this is a subject which has hitherto not met with the attention it
deserves. It is not sufficient for us to prove of any subject taught in
our schools that the knowledge or the learning of it is valuable. We
must also show that the knowledge or the learning of it is of at least
as great value as that of anything else that might be taught in the same
time. “Had we time to master all subjects we need not be particular. To
quote the old song—
Could a man be secure
That his life would endure,
As of old, for a thousand long years,
What things he might know!
What deeds he might do!
And all without hurry or care!
But we that have but span-long lives must ever bear in mind our limited
time for acquisition.”
§ 6. To test the value of the learning imparted in education we must
look to the end of education. This Mr. Spencer defines as follows: “To
prepare us for complete living is the function which education has to
discharge, and the only rational mode of judging of an educational course
is to judge in what degree it discharges such function.” For complete
living we must know “in what way to treat the body; in what way to treat
the mind; in what way to manage our affairs; in what way to bring up a
family; in what way to behave as a citizen; in what way to utilise those
sources of happiness which nature supplies—how to use all our faculties
to the greatest advantage of ourselves and others.” There are a number
of sciences, says Mr. Spencer, which throw light on these subjects. It
should, therefore, be the business of education to impart these sciences.
But if there were (which is far from being the case) a well-defined and
well-established science in each of these departments, those sciences
would not be understandable by children, nor would any individual have
time to master the whole of them, or even “a due proportion of each.”
The utmost that could be attempted would be to give young people some
knowledge of the _results_ of such sciences and the rules derived from
them. But to this Mr. Spencer would object that it would tend, like
the learning of languages, “to increase the already undue respect for
authority.”
§ 7. To consider Mr. Spencer’s divisions in detail, we come first to
knowledge that leads to self-preservation.
“Happily, that all-important part of education which goes to secure
direct self-preservation is, in part, already provided for. Too momentous
to be left to our blundering, Nature takes it into her own hands.” But
Mr. Spencer warns us against such thwartings of Nature as that by which
“stupid schoolmistresses commonly prevent the girls in their charge
from the spontaneous physical activities they would indulge in, and so
render them comparatively incapable of taking care of themselves in
circumstances of peril.”
§ 8. Indirect self-preservation, Mr. Spencer believes, may be much
assisted by a knowledge of physiology. “Diseases are often contracted,
our members are often injured, by causes which superior knowledge would
avoid.” I believe these are not the only grounds on which the advocates
of physiology urge its claim to be admitted into the curriculum; but
these, if they can be established, are no doubt very important. Is it
true, however, that doctors preserve their own life and health or that
of their children by their knowledge of physiology? I think the matter
is open to dispute. Mr. Spencer does not. He says very truly that many
a man would blush if convicted of ignorance about the pronunciation of
Iphigenia, or about the labours of Hercules who, nevertheless, would not
scruple to acknowledge that he had never heard of the Eustachian tubes,
and could not tell the normal rate of pulsation. “So terribly,” adds Mr.
Spencer, “in our education does the ornamental override the useful!”
But this is begging the question. At present classics form part of the
instruction given to every gentleman, and physiology does not. This is
the simpler form of Mr. Spencer’s assertion about the labours of Hercules
and the Eustachian tubes, and no one denies it. But we are not so well
agreed on the comparative value of these subjects. In his Address at
St. Andrews, J. S. Mill showed that he at least was not convinced of
the uselessness of classics, and Mr. Spencer does not tell us how the
knowledge of the normal state of pulsation is useful; how, to use his
own test, it “influences action.” However, whether we admit the claims
of physiology or not, we shall probably allow that there are certain
physiological facts and rules of health, the knowledge of which would be
of great practical value, and should therefore be imparted to everyone.
Here the doctor should come to the schoolmaster’s assistance, and give
him a manual from which to teach them.
§ 9. Next in order of importance, according to Mr. Spencer, comes the
knowledge which aids indirect self-preservation by facilitating the
gaining of a livelihood. Here Mr. Spencer thinks it necessary to prove
to us that such sciences as mathematics and physics and biology underlie
all the practical arts and business of life. No one would think of
joining issue with him on this point; but the question still remains,
what influence should this have on education? “Teach science,” says Mr.
Spencer. “A grounding in science is of great importance, both because
it prepares for all this [business of life], and because rational
knowledge has an immense superiority over empirical knowledge.” Should
we teach all sciences to everybody? This is clearly impossible. Should
we, then, decide for each child what is to be his particular means of
money-getting, and instruct him in those sciences which will be most
useful in that business or profession? In other words, should we have a
separate school for each calling? The only attempt of this kind which has
been made is, I believe, the institution of _Handelschulen_ (commercial
schools) in Germany. In them, youths of fifteen or sixteen enter for
a course of two or three years’ instruction which aims exclusively at
fitting them for commerce. But, in this case, their general education
is already finished. With us, the lad commonly goes to work at the
business itself quite as soon as he has the faculties for learning the
sciences connected with it. If the school sends him to it with a love of
knowledge, and with a mind well disciplined to acquire knowledge, this
will be of more value to him than any special information.
§ 10. As Mr. Spencer is here considering science merely with reference to
its importance in earning a livelihood, it is not beside the question to
remark, that in a great number of instances, the knowledge of the science
which underlies an operation confers no practical ability whatever. No
one sees the better for understanding the structure of the eye and the
undulatory theory of light. In swimming or rowing, a senior wrangler
has no advantage over a man who is entirely ignorant about the laws of
fluid pressure. As far as money-getting is concerned then, science will
not be found to be universally serviceable. Mr. Spencer gives instances
indeed, where science would prevent very expensive blundering; but the
true inference is, not that the blunderers should learn science, but that
they should mind their own business, and take the opinion of scientific
men about theirs. “Here is a mine,” says he, “in the sinking of which
many shareholders ruined themselves, from not knowing that a certain
fossil belonged to the old red sandstone, below which no coal is found.”
Perhaps they were misled by the little knowledge which Pope tells us is
a dangerous thing. If they had been entirely ignorant, they would surely
have called in a professional geologist, whose opinion would have been
more valuable than their own, even though geology had taken the place of
classics in their schooling. “Daily are men induced to aid in carrying
out inventions which a mere tyro in science could show to be futile.” But
these are men whose function it would always be to lose money, not make
it, whatever you might teach them.[187] I have great doubt, therefore,
whether the learning of sciences will ever be found a ready way of making
a fortune. But directly we get beyond the region of pounds, shillings,
and pence, I agree most cordially with Mr. Spencer that a rational
knowledge has an immense superiority over empirical knowledge. And, as
a part of their education, boys should be taught to distinguish the one
from the other, and to desire rational knowledge. Much might be done in
this way by teaching, not all the sciences and nothing else, but the main
principles of some one science, which would enable the more intelligent
boys to understand and appreciate the value of “a rational explanation
of phenomena.” I believe this addition to what was before a literary
education has already been made in some of our leading schools, as
Harrow, Rugby, and the City of London.[188]
§ 11. Next, Mr. Spencer would have instruction in the proper way of
rearing offspring form a part of his curriculum. There can be no question
of the importance of this knowledge, and all that Mr. Spencer says of the
lamentable ignorance of parents is, unfortunately, no less undeniable.
But could this knowledge be imparted early in life? Young people would
naturally take but little interest in it. It is by parents, or at least
by those who have some notion of the parental responsibility, that this
knowledge should be sought. The best way in which we can teach the young
will be so to bring them up that when they themselves have to rear
children the remembrance of their own youth may be a guide and not a
beacon to them. But more knowledge than this is necessary, and I differ
from Mr. Spencer only as to the proper time for acquiring it.
§ 12. Next comes the knowledge which fits a man for the discharge of his
functions as a citizen, a subject to which Dr. Arnold attached great
importance at the time of the first Reform Bill, and which deserves our
attention all the more in consequence of the second and third. But
what knowledge are we to give for this purpose? One of the subjects
which seem especially suitable is history. But history, as it is now
written, is, according to Mr. Spencer, useless. “It does not illustrate
the right principles of political action.” “The great mass of historical
facts are facts from which no conclusions can be drawn—unorganisable
facts, and, therefore, facts of no service in establishing principles
of conduct, which is the chief use of facts. Read them if you like for
amusement, but do not flatter yourself they are instructive.” About the
right principles of political action we seem so completely at sea that,
perhaps, the main thing we can do for the young is to point out to them
the responsibilities which will hereafter devolve upon them, and the
danger, both to the state and the individual, of just echoing the popular
cry without the least reflection, according to our present usage. But
history, as it is now written by great historians, may be of some use
in training the young both to be citizens and men. “Reading about the
fifteen decisive battles, or all the battles in history, would not make a
man a more judicious voter at the next election,” says Mr. Spencer. But
is this true? The knowledge of what has been done in other times, even
by those whose coronation renders them so distasteful to Mr. Spencer, is
knowledge which influences a man’s whole character, and may, therefore,
affect particular acts, even when we are unable to trace the connexion.
As it has been often said, the effect of reading history is, in some
respects, the same as that of travelling. Anyone in Mr. Spencer’s vein
might ask, “If a man has seen the Alps, of what use will that be to
him in weighing out groceries?” Directly, none at all; but indirectly,
much. The travelled man will not be such a slave to the petty views
and customs of his trade as the man who looks on his county town as the
centre of the universe. The study of history, like travelling, widens the
student’s mental vision, frees him to some extent from the bondage of the
present, and prevents his mistaking conventionalities for laws of nature.
It brings home to him, in all its force, the truth that “there are also
people beyond the mountain” (_Hinter dem Berge sind auch Leute_), that
there are higher interests in the world than his own business concerns,
and nobler men than himself or the best of his acquaintance. It teaches
him what men are capable of, and thus gives him juster views of his race.
And to have all this truth worked into the mind contributes perhaps as
largely to “complete living” as knowledge of the Eustachian tubes or of
the normal rate of pulsation.[189] I think, therefore, that the works
of great historians and biographers, which we already possess, may be
usefully employed in education. It is difficult to estimate the value of
history according to Mr. Spencer’s idea, as it has yet to be written; but
I venture to predict that if boys, instead of reading about the history
of nations in connection with their leading men, are required to study
only “the progress of society,” the subject will at once lose all its
interest for them; and, perhaps, many of the facts communicated will
prove, after all, no less unorganisable than the fifteen decisive battles.
§ 13. Lastly, we come to that “remaining division of human life which
includes the relaxations and amusements filling leisure hours.” Mr.
Spencer assures us that he will yield to none in the value he attaches
to æsthetic culture and its pleasures; but if he does not value the fine
arts less, he values science more; and painting, music, and poetry would
receive as little encouragement under his dictatorship as in the days of
the Commonwealth. “As the fine arts and belles-lettres occupy the leisure
part of life, so should they occupy the leisure part of education.” This
language is rather obscure; but the only meaning I can attach to it is,
that music, drawing, poetry, &c., may be taught if time can be found when
all other knowledges are provided for. This reminds me of the author
whose works are so valuable that they will be studied when Shakspeare
is forgotten—but not before. Any one of the sciences which Mr. Spencer
considers so necessary might employ a lifetime. Where then shall we look
for the leisure part of education when education includes them all?[190]
§ 14. But, if adopting Mr. Spencer’s own measure, we estimate the
value of knowledge by its influence on action, we shall probably rank
“accomplishments” much higher than they have hitherto been placed
in the schemes of educationists. Knowledge and skill connected with
the business of life, are of necessity acquired in the discharge of
business. But the knowledge and skill which make our leisure valuable
to ourselves and a source of pleasure to others, can seldom be gained
after the work of life has begun. And yet every day a man may benefit
by possessing such an ability, or may suffer from the want of it. One
whose eyesight has been trained by drawing and painting finds objects of
interest all around him, to which other people are blind. A primrose by
a river’s brim is, perhaps, more to him who has a feeling for its form
and colour than even to the scientific student, who can tell all about
its classification and component parts. A knowledge of music is often
of the greatest practical service, as by virtue of it, its possessor
is valuable to his associates, to say nothing of his having a constant
source of pleasure and a means of recreation which is most precious as a
relief from the cares of life. Of far greater importance is the knowledge
of our best poetry. One of the first reforms in our school course would
have been, I should have thought, to give this knowledge a much more
prominent place; but Mr. Spencer consigns it, with music and drawing,
to “the leisure part of education.” Whether a man who was engrossed by
science, who had no knowledge of the fine arts except as they illustrated
scientific laws, no acquaintance with the lives of great men, or with
any history but sociology, and who studied the thoughts and emotions
expressed by our great poets merely with a view to their psychological
classification—whether such a man could be said to “live completely” is
a question to which every one, not excepting Mr. Spencer himself, would
probably return the same answer. And yet this is the kind of man which
Mr. Spencer’s system would produce where it was most successful.