Washington and Franklin, or Webster and Clay, have accomplished had they
proceeded on the principle of John Easy? No youth can rationally hope to
attain to eminence in any thing who is not ready to "open the gate" for
_himself_. And then, poor Mrs. Easy, how _she_ did misjudge! Better for
her son, had she dismissed her servants--or rather had she directed them
to some more appropriate service, and let Master John have remained at
the gate day and night for a month, unless willing, before the
expiration of that time, to have opened it for himself, and by his own
strength. Parents in their well-meant kindness, or, perhaps, it were
better named, thoughtless indulgence, often repress energies which, if
their children were compelled to put forth, would result in benefits of
the most important character.
It is, indeed, painful to see boys, as we sometimes see them, struggling
against "wind and tide;" but watch such boys--follow them--see how they
put forth strength as it accumulates--apply energies as they
increase--make use of new expedients as they need them, and by-and-by
where are they? Indeed, now and then they are obliged to lift at the
gate pretty lustily to get it open; now and then they are obliged to
turn a pretty sharp corner, and, perhaps, lose a little skin from a
shin-bone or a knuckle-joint, but, _at length_, where are they? Why, you
see them sitting _in_ "the gate"--a scriptural phrase for the post of
honor. Who is that judge who so adorns the bench? My Lord Mansfield, or
Sir Matthew Hale, or Chief Justice Marshall? Why, and from what
condition, has he reached his eminence? That was a boy who some years
since was an active, persevering little fellow round the streets, the
son of the poor widow, who lives under the hill. She was poor, but she
had the faculty of infusing her own energy into her boy, Matthew or
Tommy; and now he has grown to be one of the eminent men of the country.
Yes; and I recollect there was now and then to be seen with Tommy, when
he had occasionally a half hour of leisure--but that was not
often--there was one John Easy, whose mother always kept a servant to
wait upon him, to open and shut the gate for him, and almost to help him
breathe. Well, and where is John Easy? Why there he is, this moment, a
poor, shiftless, penniless being, who never loved to open the gate for
himself, and now nobody ever desires to open a gate to him.
And the reason for all this difference is the different manner in which
these boys were trained in their early days. "Train up a child," says
the good book, "in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not
depart from it." Analyze the direction, and see how it reads. Train up a
child--what? Why _train_ him--_i.e._, educate him, discipline him. Whom
did you say? A _child_. Take him early, in the morning of life, before
bad habits, indolent habits, vicious habits are formed. It is easy to
bend the sapling, but difficult to bend the grown tree. You said _train
a child_, did you? Yes. But how? Why, _in the way_ in which he _ought to
go_--_i.e._, in some useful employment--in the exercise of good moral
affections--pious duties towards God, and benevolent actions towards his
parents, brothers, companions. Thus train him--a child--and what
then--what result may you anticipate? Why, the royal preacher says that
when he is old--of course, then, during youth, manhood, into old age,
_through life_ he means, as long as he lives he will not--what? He will
_not depart_ from it, he will neither go back, nor go zig-zag, but
_forward_, in that way in which he ought to walk, as a moral and
accountable being of God, and a member of society, bound to do all the
good he can. And thus he will come under the conditions of a just or
honest man, of whom another Scripture says, "His path is as the shining
light, which shineth brighter and brighter unto the perfect day." The
_perfect_ day! But when is that? Why in it may mean the day when God
will openly acknowledge all the really good as his sons and daughters.
But I love to take it in more enlarged sense--I take the perfect day to
be when the good will be as perfect as they can be; but as that will not
be to the end of eternity, those who are trained up in the way they
_should_ go, will probably continue to walk in it till the absolutely
perfect day comes which will never come, for the good are going to grow
better and better as long as _eternity_ lasts. So much for setting out
right with your _children_, parents!--bringing them up right--and this
involves, among other things, teaching them to "open the gate for
themselves" and similar sorts of things.
GRATIS.
* * * * *
Original.
FEMALE EDUCATION.
BY REV. SAMUEL W. FISHER.
The nature of female education, its influence, its field of action,
comprehending a wide range of the noblest topics, render it utterly
impossible to do justice to the entire theme in the brief limits here
assigned to it. Indeed it seems almost a superfluous effort, were it not
expected, nay, demanded, to discuss the subject of education in a work
like this.
Thanks to our Father in Heaven, who, in the crowning work of his
creation, gave woman to man, made weakness her strength, modesty her
citadel, grace and gentleness her attributes, affection her dower, and
the heart of man her throne. With her, toil rises into pleasure, joy
fills the breast with a larger benediction, and sorrow, losing half its
bitterness, is transmitted into an element of power, a discipline of
goodness. Even in the coarsest life, and the most depressing
circumstances, woman hath this power of hallowing all things with the
sunshine of her presence. But never does it unfold itself so finely as
when education, instinct with religion, has accomplished its most
successful work. It is only then that she reveals all her varied
excellence, and develops her high capacities. It only unfolds powers
that were latent, or develops those in harmony and beauty which
otherwise would push themselves forth in shapes grotesque, gnarled and
distorted. God creates the material, and impresses upon it his own laws.
Man, in education, simply seeks to give those laws scope for action. The
uneducated person, by a favorite figure of the old classic writers, has
often been compared to the rough marble in the quarry; the educated to
that marble chiselled by the hand of a Phidias into forms of beauty and
pillars of strength. But the analogy holds good in only a single point.
As the chisel reveals the form which the marble may be made to assume,
so education unfolds the innate capacities of men. In all things else
how poor the comparison! how faint the analogy! In the one case you have
an aggregation of particles crystallized into shape, without organism,
life or motion. In the other, you have life, growth, expansion. In the
first you have a mass of limestone, neither more nor less than insensate
matter, utterly incapable of any alteration from within itself. In the
second, you have a living body, a mind, affections instinct with power,
gifted with vitality, and forming the attributes of a being allied to
and only a little lower than the angels. These constitute a life which,
by its inherent force, must grow and unfold itself by a law of its own,
whether you educate it or not. Some development it will make, some form
it will assume by its own irrepressible and spontaneous action. The
question, with us, is rather what that form shall be; whether it shall
wear the visible robes of an immortal with a countenance glowing with
the intelligence and pure affection of cherub and seraph, or through the
rags and sensual impress of an earthly, send forth only occasional
gleams of its higher nature. The great work of education is to stimulate
and direct this native power of growth. God and the subject, co-working,
effect all the rest.
In the wide sense in which it is proposed to consider the subject of
education, three things are pre-supposed--personal talents, personal
application, and the divine blessing. Without capacities to be
developed, or with very inferior capacities, education is either wholly
useless, or only partially successful. As it has no absolute creative
power, and is utterly unable to add a single faculty to the mind, so
the first condition of its success is the capacity for improvement in
the subject. An idiot may be slightly affected by it, but the feebleness
of his original powers forbids the noblest result of education. It
teaches men how most successfully to use their own native force, and by
exercise to increase it, but in no case can it supply the absence of
that force. It is not its province to inspire genius, since that is the
breath of God in the soul, bestowed as seemeth to him good, and at the
disposal of no finite power. It is enough if it unfold and discipline,
and guide genius in its mission to the world. We are not to demand that
it shall make of every man a Newton, a Milton, a Hall, a Chalmers, a
Mason, a Washington; or of every woman a Sappho, a De Stael, a Roland, a
Hemans.
The supposition that all intellects are originally equal, however
flattering to our pride, is no less prejudicial to the cause of
education than false in fact. It throws upon teachers the responsibility
of developing talents that have scarcely an existence, and securing
attainments within the range of only the very finest powers, during the
period usually assigned to this work. To the ignorant it misrepresents
and dishonors education, when it presents for their judgment a very
inferior intellect, which all the training of the schools has not
inspired with power, as a specimen of the result of liberal pursuits.
Such an intellect can never stand up beside an active though untutored
mind--untutored in the schools, yet disciplined by the necessities
around it. It is only in the comparison of minds of equal original
power, but of different and unequal mental discipline, that the result
of a thorough education reveal themselves most strikingly. The genius
that, partially educated, makes a fine bar-room politician, a good
county judge, a respectable member of the lower house in our State
Legislature, or an expert mechanic and shrewd farmer, when developed by
study and adorned with learning, rises to the foremost rank of men.
Great original talents will usually give indication of their presence
amidst the most depressing circumstances. But when a mind of this stamp
has been allowed to unfold itself under the genial influence of large
educational advantages, how will it grow in power, outstripping the
multitude, as some majestic tree, rooted in a soil of peculiar richness
rises above and spreads itself abroad over the surrounding forest? Our
inquiry, however, at present, is not exclusively respecting individuals
thus highly gifted.
Geniuses are rare in our world; sent occasionally to break up the
monotony of life, impart new impulses to a generation, like comets
blazing along the sky, startle the dosing mind, no longer on the stretch
to enlarge the boundaries of human knowledge, and rouse men to gaze on
visions of excellence yet unreached. Happily, the mass of mankind are
not of this style of mind. Uniting by the process of education the
powers which God has conferred upon them, with those of a more brilliant
order which are occasionally given to a few, the advancement of the
world in all things essential to its refinement, and purity, and
exaltation, is probably as rapid and sure as it would be under a
different constitution of things. Were all equally elevated, it might
still be necessary for some to tower above the rest, and by the sense of
inequality move the multitude to nobler aspirations. But while it is not
permitted of God that all men should actually rise to thrones in the
realm of mind, yet such is the native power of all sane minds, and such
their great capacity of improvement, that, made subject to a healthful
discipline they may not only qualify us for all the high duties of life
on earth, but go on advancing in an ever-perfecting preparation for the
life above.
The second thing pre-supposed in education is personal application.
There is no thorough education that is not self-education. Unlike the
statue which can be wrought only from without, the great work of
education is to unfold the life within. This life always involves
self-action. The scholar is not merely a passive recipient. He grows
into power by an active reception of truth. Even when he listens to
another's utterances of knowledge, what vigor of attention and memory
are necessary to enable him to make that knowledge his own? But when he
attempts himself to master a subject of importance, when he would rise
into the higher region of mathematics, philosophy, history, poetry,
religion, art; or even when he would prepare himself for grappling with
the great questions of life, what long processes of thought! what
patient gathering together of materials! what judgment, memory,
comparison, and protracted meditation are essential to complete success?
The man who would triumph over obstacles and ascend the heights of
excellence in the realm of mind, must work with the continuous vigor of
a steamship on an ocean voyage. Day by day the fire must burn, and the
revolve in the calm and in the gale--in the sunshine and the storm. The
innate excellency of genius or talents can give no exemption to its
possessor from this law of mental growth. An educated mind is neither an
aggregation of particles accreted around a center, as the stones grow,
nor a substance, which, placed in a turner's lathe, comes forth an
exquisitely wrought instrument. The mere passing through an academy or
college, is not education. The enjoyment of the largest educational
advantages by no means infers the possession of a mind and heart
thoroughly educated; since there is an inner work to be performed by the
subject of those advantages before he can lay claim to the possession of
a well-disciplined and richly-stored intellect and affections. The
phrase, "self-made men" is often so used as to convey the idea that the
persons who have enjoyed the advantages of a liberal education, are
rather made by their instructors. The supposition is in part unjust.
The outward means of education stimulate the mind, and thus assist the
process of development; but it is absolutely essential to all growth in
mental or moral excellence, that the person himself should be enlisted
vigorously in the work. He must work as earnestly as the man destitute
of his faculties. The difference between the two consists not in the
fact that one walks and the other rides, but that the one is obliged to
take a longer road to reach the same point. Teachers, books, recitations
and lectures facilitate our course, direct us how most advantageously to
study, point out the shortest path to the end we seek, and tend to rouse
the soul to the putting forth of its powers; but neither of these can
take the place of, or forestall intense personal application. The man
without instructors, like a traveler without guide-boards, must take
many a useless step, and often retrace his way. He may, after this
experimental traveling, at length reach the same point with the person
who has enjoyed superior literary aids, but it will cost the waste of
many a precious hour, which might have been spent in enlarging the
sphere of his vision and perfecting the symmetry of his intellectual
powers. In cases of large attainments and ripe character, in either sex,
the process of growth is laborious. Thinking is hard work. All things
most excellent are the fruits of slow, patient working. The trees grow
slowly, grain by grain; the planets creep round their orbits, inch by
inch; the river hastens to the ocean by a gentle progress; the clouds
gather the rain-drop from the invisible air, particle by particle, and
we are not to ask that this immortal mind, the grandest thing in the
world, shall reach its perfection by a single stride, or independently
of the most early, profound and protracted self-labor. It is enough for
us that, thankfully accepting the assistance of those who have ascended
above us, we give ourselves to assiduous toil, until our souls grow up
to the stature of perfect men.
The third thing pre-supposed in education is the divine benediction. In
all spheres of action, we recognize the over-ruling providence of God
working without us, and his Spirit commissioned to work within us. Nor
is there any work of mortal life in which we need to allay unto
ourselves the wisdom and energy of Jehovah, as an essential element of
success than is this long process where truth, affection, decision,
judgment, and perseverance in the teacher, are to win into the paths of
self-labor minds of every degree of ability, and dispositions of every
variety. When God smiles upon us, then this grand work of moulding
hearts and intellects for their high destiny moves forward without
friction, and the young heart silently and joyously comes forth into the
light.
* * * * *
Original.
GLEANINGS BY THE WAYSIDE. No. 3.
A river never rises higher than the source from whence it springs; so a
character is never more elevated and consistent, in mature life, than
the principles which were adopted in childhood were pure, reasonable,
and consistent with truth: so a tree is either good or bad, and brings
forth fruit after its own kind, though it be ever so stinted. If you
find a crab-apple on a tree, you may be sure that the tree is a
crab-tree. So one can predicate a pretty correct opinion of a person, as
to character, disposition, and modes of thinking and acting, from a
single isolated remark, incidentally made, or an act performed on the
spur of the moment.
This I shall attempt to show by reference to two occurrences which took
place in the case of a young husband and wife.
Joseph, the father of a young child, one day brought home "Abbott's
Mother at Home," remarking to his wife, as he presented it, "Louise, I
have been persuaded to buy this book, in the hope that it may aid us in
the training of our little daughter."
Her quick and tart reply was--"I don't think I shall 'bring up' my child
by a book."
It may be useful to learn under what peculiar circumstances this young
wife and mother had herself been "brought up."
Certainly not, as a matter of course, in the country, where good books
are comparatively difficult to be obtained, and (though every one has
much to do) are usually highly prized, and read with avidity. Certainly
not, as a matter of course, where there was a large family of children,
and where all must share every thing in common, and where each must
perform an allotted part in household duties, perhaps to eke out a
scanty salary. Not in a farm-house, where the income will yield but a
bare competency for the support of ten or twelve children. If there is
a good and wise father and mother at the helm, it is under such
conflicting circumstances that children are usually the most thoroughly
and practically taught the great principles which should govern human
society.
Louise was educated under very different circumstances. Her father's
residence was the great metropolis. He was a very wealthy man, and he
had the means of choosing any mode of education which he might prefer to
adopt.
The mother of Louise was said to have been a noble-minded woman, but
always in delicate health. She early dedicated this infant daughter to
God, but died while she was quite young. Unfortunately, poor little
Louise was for a few years left to the care of ignorant and selfish
relatives, who intermeddled, and often in the child's hearing, with a
significant nod of the head, would utter the piteous inuendo, "Who knows
how soon the poor thing may have a step-mother!"
From this and similar ill-timed remarks, poor little Louise very early
fostered an inveterate dislike to her father's ever marrying a second
time.
But he did soon marry again. Instead of at once taking this cruel sliver
out of the flesh, acting on the sublime principle, "Duty belongs to us;
leave consequences with God," the father of Louise very injudiciously
and selfishly fell in with this child's foolish and wicked notions, and
in order, as he thought, to remunerate this darling child for her great
trial, allowed her to live almost entirely abstracted from the family
circle.
She was allowed to have a room entirely by herself, which was the
largest and best in the house, and in all respects to maintain a
separate interest. No one might interfere with this or that, for it
belonged to Miss Louise.
Her father said, at any rate, she should not be annoyed by any
participation in the care of the little ones, as she left no one in
doubt of the fact, that above every thing she disliked children, and
especially the care of them. Certainly, he said, they should not
interfere in any way with her in acquiring a "liberal education." And
thus she lost the sweet privilege of acting the honorable and useful
part usually assigned to an "elder daughter," and an "elder sister."
To atone for her isolated and unfortunate situation--made unfortunate by
the contracted and selfish views of this ill-judging father--her father
made another mistake under the circumstances, for, instead of sending
her to a good select school, where she would come in contact with
children of her own age, and her intellectual powers might be sharpened
by coming in contact with other minds, he procured for her _private
teachers_, and she had not even the benefit of a good long walk to and
from school in the open air.
Thus was this mere child, day after day, and hour after hour, confined
to the piano, to her drawing and painting lessons, and her worsted work.
She became a proficient in these external accomplishments, and was by
some considered quite a prodigy--possessing a rare genius, which often
means nothing more nor less than a distorted character.
Her health for a time was sadly undermined, and her nervous system was
shattered by too close attention to pursuits which imposed too great a
tax upon the visual organs, and too much abstraction from common
objects.
Who would not rather see a young daughter--the merry, laughing companion
of a group of girls--out after wild flowers, weaving them into garlands
to crown the head of some favorite of the party, making up bouquets as a
gift for mamma, or some favorite aunt--cutting paper into fantastic
figures, and placing them upon the wall to please children, or dressing
a doll for little sister? Who would not rather see their young daughter
a jumping delicate little romp, chasing a bird in mirthful glee, as if
she verily thought she could catch it?
How could this young wife and mother, so differently trained, be
expected all at once to judge and act wisely and impartially about the
grave matter of infant training--a subject she absolutely knew nothing
about, having never contemplated it? What do parents think, or expect
when their young daughters marry and become parents? Do they suppose
that some magic spell will come over a girl of eighteen in going through
the matrimonial ceremony, which shall induct her into all the mysteries
of housewifery, and initiate her into the more intricate and important
duty of training the infant, so as to give it a sound mind in a sound
body, so that it shall possess a symmetrical character?
The father of Louise saw too late his mistake in allowing this daughter
the great privilege, as he thought at the time, of having her own way in
every thing.
If this were a proper place to give advice to young men on the grave
subject of selecting a wife, we should say, "Never marry a young lady
merely for her showy, outward accomplishments, which, ten chances to
one, have been attained at the expense of more valuable and useful
acquirements--perhaps at the sacrifice of the ornament of a meek and
quiet spirit, which is in the sight of God of great price. Never select
for a wife a young lady who dishonors her name and sex by the avowal
that she dislikes children; that she even hates the care of them, and
that she never could find pleasure in household duties. She could never
love flowers, or find satisfaction in cultivating them."
A lovely infant is the most beautiful object of all God's handy works.
"Flowers _are_ more than beautiful;" they give us lessons of practical
wisdom. So the Savior teaches us. If I did not love little children--if
I did not love flowers--I would studiously hide the fact, even from
myself, for then I could not respect myself.