My last chapter, like the first, begins with a question. Strange to say,
no satisfactory definition of education has yet been given, nor has a
definition of it often been even attempted. The literature of the
subject is copious enough. But writers have busied themselves mainly
with details, with methods of teaching, and so forth. A few, of a more
philosophical turn of mind, have discussed the principles of the
subject, and among these some have undertaken to develop their theories
from the true starting-point of a definition. But among all these, from
Plato, who was the earliest systematic writer on the subject, to Herbert
Spencer, the latest and the most pretentious, not one has given a
definition of it which is not open to objection.
It may seem presumptuous, perhaps, to undertake again that in which so
many have failed. But there can be no harm in making at least an
endeavor. What then are some of the elements which enter into our idea
of education?
To educate is, in the first place, to develop. It is to draw out and
strengthen the powers and give them right direction. It is, therefore,
something more than merely imparting knowledge. Knowledge is to the
child's mind what food is to the body. Each is a means to an end. It is
to cause growth. As by the proper use of food and exercise the limbs and
muscles expand, and acquire their full and appointed size, symmetry, and
strength, so by acquiring and using knowledge of various kinds, the
various faculties of the mind attain their full power and proportion.
For this reason mainly the pure mathematics and the ancient languages,
Latin and Greek, have held their place in almost every course of liberal
study, not because the knowledge of these branches is likely to be
called for in ordinary professional business, but because the study of
these branches is supposed to be particularly adapted to develop and
invigorate certain important qualities of the mind. This development of
the powers, then, is the first element involved in a just idea of
education.
But, secondly, nature plainly indicates a certain order to be observed
in the development of the faculties. "First the blade, then the ear,
after that the full corn in the ear." So in the human plant. The time
for the efflorescence of some of the faculties is in early youth. Other
faculties make little growth till near the age of manhood. A wise
educator will carefully observe these facts, and not waste his energies
and mar his work, either by attempting a premature development of those
faculties which God seems to have meant to ripen later, or by neglecting
to draw out and train in childhood those faculties which then most
naturally and aptly spring into vigorous growth. Youth, for instance, is
the season, of all others, when the memory is to be cultivated; the
season of all others, when the instinctive principle of faith is to have
free play. So, too, the moral and emotional faculties may receive the
first germs of their development at a very early stage in the history of
the human being. The education of this part of our nature begins,
indeed, with the first smile of recognition that passes between the
infant and its mother. Other faculties and powers, as the reason and the
judgment, for instance, come to maturity nearer the age of manhood, and
the normal period for their cultivation is accordingly near the end,
rather than near the beginning, of an educational course. It is not,
however, my object here to mark out an order for the development of the
faculties, but only to note that there is such an order, and that the
observance of this order is a most important element in our idea of what
education is.
The next element in this idea is that a certain proportion and symmetry
be observed in the development of the powers. Perhaps it might not be
strictly accurate to say that any faculty may be cultivated too highly.
Yet there certainly is an excess whenever one faculty or power is
cultivated quite out of proportion to the other faculties and powers. A
man in Boston a few years ago, by directing his attention exclusively
for a long time to the single act of lifting, educated his body to the
power of lifting enormous weights. But this power was gained at the
expense of agility, grace, and many other bodily qualities quite as
important as that of lifting weights. So the mental faculties may become
one-sided by injudicious training. The memory may be inordinately
developed at the expense of the reasoning power, the reason at the
expense of the imagination, the feelings at the expense of the judgment,
the mind at the expense of the body, the body at the expense of the
mind. In all right education, therefore, the faculties are to be
developed, not only in due order, but in due proportion.
The next element that enters into our idea is that of a proper
comprehensiveness. The educator must bear in mind that the being
committed to his care is one of a complex nature, and that every part of
this complex nature is to receive its due attention. Physical education
is included in his duties as well as mental, mental as well as moral and
religious. No part is to be neglected. He should aim to secure for his
subject full bodily health, agility, strength, symmetry, and power of
endurance. The bodily senses are capable of a degree of cultivation that
few seem to be aware of. Perhaps, in our ordinary schemes of education,
no part of our complex nature is so inadequately provided for, so almost
ignored, as the physical. But, as in regard to the other points that
have been raised, so here, it is not my object so much to particularize
the several parts of human nature that require attention, as to
recognize distinctly the fact that we are thus complex, and that the
business of the educator is necessarily a many-sided one, requiring most
varied knowledge and experience.
But there is one important limitation to be observed here, otherwise our
definition would be seriously amiss. In many works on education, it is
stated, without qualification, that we ought to give to all our powers
the fullest development of which they are capable. If we were unfallen
angels, the rule might perhaps be a safe one. But for fallen human
beings, it certainly needs some limitation. We have faculties and
powers, not a few, which we need to repress rather than to cultivate.
Are we to give the fullest development of which they are capable, to
anger, envy, jealousy, cunning, avarice, and lust? To state the question
is to answer it. It is not every faculty of the child, therefore, that
is to be developed, but only those parts of his nature which are good
and desirable, those by which he can best discharge his duties to God
and attain his highest excellence as a man.
Let us now gather up the several ideas which have been suggested, and
see if we cannot compress them into some brief formula, as a definition
of education, which, if not perfect and exhaustive of the subject, shall
be both more comprehensive and more precise than those now afloat.
Definition.--Education is developing, in due order and proportion,
whatever is good and desirable in human nature.