delightful and refreshing memories, which still linger about the old
school-house where we received our elementary education,--the dear old
school-house by the wayside, with its noisy group, its sunny spots, and
its hours of fun and frolic, and especially its birchen sceptre, which
so often taught us the "doctrine of passive obedience." It is
unquestionably true that every school-house, to some extent at least,
reflects its character in the character of its pupils. Hence we should
not only look to the character of our schools, but should build our
school-houses in a neat, if not imposing style; for they, though silent,
are eloquent teachers, whose influence should create such impressions as
will tend to refine the tastes and elevate the aspirations of the
youthful mind.
But no system of education which is contracted, or revolves in a circle,
can fully meet the exigencies of the mind, or satisfy the demands of the
age. In most American colleges, as well as in the universities of
Europe, a definite course of study is prescribed and made a fixed
fact,--a kind of Procrustean bed on which every lad is either stretched
or abridged to fit; and this is done, as scholastics tell us, for the
purpose of disciplining the mind. No two persons were ever created to
think, act, or look alike in every respect; nor can an educational
system be prescribed by square and compass which will be alike adapted
to all minds. In my humble judgment, those studies best discipline the
mind which tend most to enlarge and liberalize it, and which are
essentially concordant with its native powers and capacities. The course
of education, therefore, which will best develop the peculiar genius,
talent, or marked preference of the pupil, should be adopted so far as
practicable. If a young man, for instance, exhibits a native talent or
taste for music, painting, mechanics, law, medicine, theology,
agriculture, or commerce, his education should take the direction
indicated. If this plan were pursued in all our colleges and other
schools of a high order, we should soon see, instead of here and there a
star, a galaxy of brilliant men and women in the sky of our national
renown, whose excellence in their several specialties would challenge
the admiration of mankind.
The truth is, our modern colleges are not modern enough. They look to
the ancients for wisdom, instead of seeking it from Nature and the
revelations of modern science. In a word, the dead languages are studied
too much; the living, too little. Next to mathematics, the natural
sciences should take the preference. No man is thoroughly educated who
is not thoroughly instructed in these sciences, especially in chemistry
and geology. Every farmer should be familiar with agricultural
chemistry, and be able to apply its principles. It is the utility, the
practical good to be derived from an education, that gives to it value
and solidity.
It is practical, not fanciful knowledge, which the masses need. In order
to secure their elevation and social equality, every State in the Union
should be required to maintain an efficient system of common schools, in
which all instruction should be given in the English language, and the
schools made accessible to all classes of youth, and be "good enough for
the richest, and cheap enough for the poorest." In order to effect this,
the system should recognize the theory as an equitable principle, that
the property of the State is bound to educate the youth of the State.
This principle is certainly a just one, since the man of property,
though he have no children, is as much benefited by its application as
the man who has children but no property, for the reason that the
security of property, as well as the rights of persons and the stability
of the Republic, must ever depend on the degree of intelligence
possessed by the people.
In fact, each State should be regarded as one great school-district,
and all its resident youth as the children of the State, for whose
common education every citizen having taxable property is bound to
contribute his proportionate share. In this way every child can be
educated, and elevated to the social position of a true manhood; and it
is only in this way that a work of such magnitude can be accomplished.
In every point of view it is much wiser to educate than to punish, much
wiser to build school-houses than prisons, much wiser to sustain school
libraries than billiard-tables.
It is a matter of congratulation, however, that there is now much more
confidence placed in the theory of common schools than in former years.
In most of the States prejudice has yielded to enlightened sentiment,
and the "people's colleges" have come to be regarded as the most useful
and influential institutions in the land. All should be done that can be
to render these schools pleasant and attractive. The school-house should
be built not only in good taste, but its surroundings should be made as
cheerful and inviting as possible by planting about it ornamental trees,
shrubs, and flowers. Its interior walls should be enriched with
appropriate maps and charts, historical paintings, and portraits of
renowned men and women. In addition to this, every school should be
supplied with an ample apparatus, embracing specimen weights and
measures, mathematical figures in wood, together with globes and a
planetarium,--not omitting a cabinet of the leading minerals, metals,
and coins. Their uses and characteristics should be explained and
illustrated by the teacher in a simple style of language, and in the
presence of the entire school, at least once or twice a week.
Familiar exercises of this kind would deeply interest the pupils, and
impart to their minds a degree of valuable knowledge which they would
not be likely to obtain in any other way, and which might awaken,
perhaps, some unconscious genius, who would in after-life so develop his
powers as to advance the interests of science, and take his place among
her proudest masters. In nearly every instance our truly great men have
arisen from an obscure origin.
The time has already arrived, I am inclined to think, when there should
be added to the usual course of studies pursued in our colleges,
academies, and high schools, a systematic training in military science
and discipline, as a means not only of physical culture, but as an easy
method of fitting our young men to become practical soldiers and
defenders of the Republic. We as a people, in consequence of the late
Civil War in which we have been involved, are evidently undergoing a
transition, which has already had the effect to change in a good degree
our national traits of character. If we would have invincible men, we
must, like the ancient Greeks, accustom our sons to hardships and manly
exercises, give them muscle as well as mind, teach them to love and
defend their country, and if need be, to die for it,--die on the
battle-field,--
"Where gory sabres rise and fall
Like shoots of flame on midnight's pall!"
The attempt which we are making in our public schools to educate our
children in the shortest possible time is a grave error. We ought rather
to "make haste slowly," if we would do the work well. A work of this
character is one which requires patience and perseverance. There is no
short way to knowledge, no patent right that can produce it to order. It
can only be obtained by study, persevering study, aided by the patient
efforts of competent teachers. It is all-important therefore that we
should furnish our children with such elementary books as are best
adapted to their capacities and needs, and with such teachers as are
qualified to teach them lessons contained not only inside of books but
outside of books,--lessons which abound everywhere, both in the natural
and in the moral world. We should also furnish them with school
libraries composed of standard works, and including the best current
literature of the day. A library of this character should be established
in every school-district, and be made accessible to every citizen. In
this way, and only in this way, can the masses be supplied with the
mental food which they so much need, and which is indispensable to their
moral and intellectual elevation. No matter what the cost, public
libraries always pay a liberal dividend in the shape of mental and moral
power, if not in dollars and cents. No matter what dangers may threaten
our free institutions, depend upon it, a reading people will take care
of themselves.
The ancients built temples for their gods; we build school-houses for
our children. This one fact exhibits perhaps more clearly than any other
the distinctive character which marks the career of ancient and modern
civilization, and indicates the great change which has been wrought in
the course of ages by the law of progress. We may justly regard our
numerous school-houses and churches as the mirrors not only of moral
character, but as the safeguards of the Republic.
In the pursuit of knowledge, it is quite absurd to suppose that all
high attainment in art, in literature, and in science, must of necessity
be confined to the "learned professions," as they are called by way of
pre-eminence. It does not matter what a man professes to know, but the
question is, what does he know, compared with what he might know? There
should never be such a monopoly allowed to exist as a monopoly of
knowledge. The learned professions have nothing in them sacred, no
forbidden fruit,--nothing more than what everybody may know who chooses;
nor can there be any good reason why every employment in the various
departments of human industry--every trade, every mechanic art--should
not be regarded as a learned profession, and be made a learned
profession, in which brains as well as hands should co-operate in
achieving success and in solving new problems.
There is food for thought in every human pursuit. In order to be
successful, in order to achieve high aims, the laboring man must not
only think, but be capable of thinking profoundly. Indeed, every man may
live like a philosopher, and be a philosopher, if he will. But no man
can be a true philosopher who is not both a practical worker and a
practical thinker. There is nothing the world needs more than workers
and thinkers to make it a paradise. The masses are workers, and if
educated, would become thinkers. It is only once or twice in a century,
it is said, that "God lets loose upon the earth a great thinker." Of the
past, this may be true, but not of the present. We have scores of men
now living who are greater thinkers than Plato, Newton, or Franklin,
because modern science has introduced them into broader fields of
thought. The chemists, geologists, inventors, and discoverers of the
present day have never been excelled as profound thinkers. Ours is
literally an age of philosophers.
Truth, though eternal, is never stationary; nor will the law of progress
ever reach a standpoint. There is always something to be done, some
vacuum to be filled. It is said by philosophers that Nature abhors a
vacuum. I do not doubt it, especially if it be a vacuum in the human
head. It is pretty certain that the youthful head, if not filled with
sense at the proper time, will soon be filled with nonsense. Neither
errors of the head nor errors of the heart can be easily eradicated,
when once implanted. The moral nature of the child may be moulded at
will; but the cherished opinions of age can seldom, if ever, be either
reversed or essentially modified. In the great battle of life our
success as individuals must depend on the kind of armor in which we are
clad, and the kind of weapons with which we are supplied. For effective
service there is nothing which can be brought into the field so
formidable or so irresistible as the artillery of logic. Intellect is
always sure of becoming the ultimate victor. We read of giants in the
chronicles of the early ages,--physical giants, who could overthrow the
pillars of the proudest temples, and bear off mountains upon their
shoulders; yet of what value to the world were their marvellous
exploits, if really true, compared with the achievements of those
intellectual giants who have appeared at different epochs, and taught
mankind the most useful lessons in the arts, in the sciences, and in
philosophy? And here let me say to the young aspirant for worldly honors
that if he would achieve high aims, he must not only aim high, but have
faith in himself as well as in a Divine Providence. Indeed, every man,
however humble, may become great in his vocation, if he will; yet no man
can become truly great who is not truly good.
So far as human perfection can be defined, it consists in the purity and
sublimity of moral action,--a perfection which may be approached, if not
reached, by all who are so disposed. How truly has it been said that we
are never too old or too wise to learn! Nor is any man so ignorant but
he may teach a philosopher something.
No matter how conservative we may be in our creeds and opinions, the
world will continue to move onward; nor can it stand still if it would.
The time is at hand when errors in creed, as well as in education, to
which we cling, will not only be exposed, but exploded. However hopeless
the condition of the masses may seem, they are already demanding more
light and only await an opportunity to proclaim their emancipation from
mental thraldom.
The statistics relating to the numbers of mankind, and to the frail
tenure of human life, convey lessons which ought not to be disregarded
in the estimate we make of what man can do to elevate himself. Strange
as it may seem, it is a fact pretty well ascertained that the entire
population of the globe neither increases nor diminishes, but remains
essentially the same. And yet the population of the earth is continually
undergoing changes from the operation of local causes, increasing here
and diminishing there, as the ages advance. The law involved seems based
on the principle of a just compensation for all diminution. In other
words, the earth has a limited capacity, and like a cup when filled, can
hold no more, yet always remains full.
When we consider the fact that one fourth of mankind die before
reaching seven years of age; one half before reaching seventeen years;
and that sixty persons die every minute,--we are struck with
astonishment, and are naturally led to inquire into the reasons. The
causes which abridge life may for the most part be attributed to popular
ignorance, or disregard of physical law,--either in ancestor, parent, or
child. Nothing can be truer than the fact that the "sins of the fathers
are visited upon their children unto the third and fourth generation,"
and even to indefinite generations. It is indeed a fearful inheritance,
when life comes to us tainted with constitutional disease. For this
there seems to be no remedy, except in the adoption of such a popular
system of education as will diffuse a practical knowledge of the laws of
health.
It may be safely asserted that many people, especially in America, where
food is abundant and the style of living luxurious, "dig their own
graves with their teeth." Americans, as we all know, are disposed to
live fast, and of course die prematurely. In short, we are a sanguine,
impatient people; have morbid appetites, crave rich viands, seek wealth
and office, and care for little else. In our successes we commit
excesses. In the pure elixir of life we infuse drops of poison. Yet
Nature proffers us the gift of long life, and waits our acceptance with
a patient spirit. Though extreme longevity may not be desirable, yet
many more than now do, might attain to the dignity of centenarians, if
they would but live in obedience to physical law.
In the elements of his physical nature, man is truly "of the earth
earthy." Chemists say that a man of ordinary size is composed of forty
pounds solid matter and five buckets of water, all of which may be
converted into gas. However this may be, man is a delicate piece of
mechanism, a combination of divine inventions. For example, his eye is a
telescope, which penetrates the mysteries of the stars; his ear is a
drum, which repeats every sound in nature; his heart a timepiece, which
marks, with measured beat, the fleeting moments of his life; his vocal
organs a harp with a thousand strings, which is capable of uttering the
divinest music.
And yet man in his moral nature, though created but "a little lower than
the angels," is a profound puzzle. He advances many theories, questions
even divine truth, yet believes in absurdities. Nor need we marvel at
this, perhaps, when we recall the fact that mankind speak more than
three thousand different languages, and profess more than one thousand
different religions.
Whether regarded as a common brotherhood, or as composed of distinct
races, it is evident that the human family have made rapid advancement
in the amelioration of their condition during the last century, through
the instrumentalities of a world-wide commercial intercourse, and the
consequent diffusion of nobler incentives to action. Yet of the one
thousand millions that compose the great family of man, more than six
hundred millions are still groping their way in the darkness of a moral
midnight, awaiting the advent of the school-master and the promulgation
of a purer and holier faith. Even in Christian countries, especially in
the South-American States, and in many parts of Europe, the masses are
almost universally illiterate and superstitious, and have so long been
accustomed to oppression that they have become quite indifferent, if not
insensible, to their natural rights; nor dare they, if they would,
assert their manhood.
In Italy, the land of art and of beauty, the proportion of those who can
read is from twenty to thirty in a hundred, while among the inhabitants
within a circle of thirty miles around Rome, there is not one in a
hundred, it is said, who can read. Not only in these countries, but in
more than half the globe, the masses submit to oppression, because it is
the policy of their oppressors to hold them, spell-bound, in ignorance.
If they are ever elevated to the social and political rank which the God
of Nature designed them to occupy, it must be done by the school-master,
armed with his text-books and sustained by the efforts of an enlightened
Christian philanthropy. For this ultimate object God works, and man
should work.
There can be no doubt but natural scenery, as well as climate, exercises
a decided influence in the formation of national character. Whether we
advert to Palestine, Switzerland, or New England, it is easy to discover
that the mountains of these countries have by their silent eloquence
inspired the masses of the people, not only with reverence, but with a
love of freedom. In the sublimity of the cloud-capped mountains, they
seem to recognize a divine presence which has taught them to look
skyward, and to feel that they are destined to ascend in the scale of
existence; while in low and level countries, especially on the plains of
Russia and Asia, the inhabitants take horizontal views of things, and
consequently submit to oppression, and never dare, like mountain-bred
men, to break their fetters or question the decrees of fate.
The ancient Hebrews, as everybody knows, were not only brave in warfare,
but were distinguished above all other nations as a reverential and
God-fearing people. Their form of government was essentially theocratic.
In the earthquake they recognized the footsteps of God; in the solemn
thunder they heard his voice; in the lightning's flash they saw an
expression of his anger; in the rainbow they beheld a token of his
promise,--in a word, they were a peculiar people, who have, in the
record of their experiences, transmitted to mankind a sacred
inheritance.
Switzerland is emphatically a land of mountains and of heroes. Almost
every hill and vale within her borders has its consecrated spots and its
sanctified memories. In the recesses of her mountains the love of
freedom ever burns with a pure and a holy flame, because it is a love
which was born of the mountains.
In New England it is equally apparent that the silent grandeur of her
mountains contributes to inspire her inhabitants with lofty sentiments,
and with a love of civil and religious liberty,--a love which can never
be subjected to the reign of oppression, nor be misdirected in its
action, except by its own enthusiasm.
It often happens that the inhabitants who occupy distinct portions of a
common country differ as widely in their sentiments as in their manners
and customs. Especially is this true of the United States, where it is
easy to distinguish the Eastern, Western, and Southern people from each
other. It may be natural causes, or it may be local interests, that have
created these differences, and marked the people of each region with
those peculiar personal traits which give them character.
The New Englanders are generally characterized as sedate, formal, and
puritanical, guessing at everything, yet pretty shrewd at guessing. They
possess genius, are prolific in inventions, and scrupulous in matters of
faith. In discussing theological questions, they split hairs; in making
a bargain, they conclude to split the difference. In all things they are
quick to see advantages, and apt to take advantages. In whatever they
undertake, they look ahead and go ahead. In every sixpence which falls
within their grasp, they recognize an element of power which "leads on
to fortune;" and when they have acquired a fortune, they are pretty sure
to keep it. And, as Halleck the poet says,--
"They love their land because it is their own,
And scorn to give aught other reason why;
Would shake hands with a king upon his throne,
And think it kindness to his majesty;
A stubborn race, fearing and nattering none.
Such are they nurtured, such they live and die,
All but a few apostates, who are meddling
With merchandise, pounds, shillings, pence, and peddling!"
In the Western States, where Nature educates men on a liberal scale by
giving them broad rivers, broad lakes, and broad prairies, we find a
people characterized by broad and liberal views of things,
large-heartedness, frank manners, generous sympathies; a philanthropy
which regards all mankind as a brotherhood, and a public sentiment which
rebukes intolerance. In truth, Western men despise "little things" and
devise "liberal things," and would sooner sacrifice their lives than
yield obedience to the mandates of either political or ecclesiastical
oppression.
In the Southern States Nature has not as yet effected much in the
exercise of her educational influences. In whatever she has attempted in
this direction she seems to have been overruled by circumstances,--by
the difference in races, and by the prejudices of caste. Though the
South has produced intellectual men of a high order, she has contributed
comparatively but little either to science or to standard literature.
Yet it must be conceded that the South has always been justly
distinguished for her hospitality, cordiality, and chivalric spirit.
Whatever human institutions may achieve, it is certain that Nature in
the manifest wisdom of her works contributes largely to the education of
all classes of men in all countries. In her great school, even the
uncivilized man not unfrequently becomes a profound philosopher. The
coinage of her mint has the true ring in it and passes current
everywhere. Her light is the light of the world, yet the masses are too
blind, or rather too ignorant, to see it. Without intending the least
disrespect to the one thousand different theologies which distract
mankind, it may be asserted that the Book of Nature is in itself a
divine revelation, which has been divided by her own hand into chapter
and verse, and may be read in the alphabet of the flowers, in the rocks
of the hills, and in the stars. In its language it is not only
beautiful, but every word is suggestive; in its doctrines it is pure and
truthful; in its wide range of thought it treats principally of life,
and of the conditions of life, and assures us that the silent process of
creation--of eternal change--still goes on, now as ever; and that every
particle of matter in the universe is constantly active, achieving
something.