§ 2. One of the most important works of this kind which has lately appeared, is the treatise4 of Mr. Herbert Spencer. So eminent5 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[440] propounded6 are shared by a number of distinguished7 scientific men; and not a few of the unscientific believe that in them is shadowed forth8 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 treatises9 usually are, but, on the other hand, it has the disadvantage of arousing the antagonism10 of those whom he would most wish to influence. When the man who has no practical acquaintance with education, lays down the law ex cathedra, garnished11 with sarcasms12 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 impartiality13 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 faculties14 of the mind, Mr. Spencer dismisses briefly15. “It would be utterly16 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,[441] which form the staple17 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 scanty18 training for the mind. We want to draw out the child’s interests, and to direct them to worthy19 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 varied20 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 Pr?senti,” and “Propria qu? 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 ascertain21 this sequence, and supply this knowledge.
[442]
§ 5. Mr. Spencer discusses more fully22 “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.
[443]
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 derived24 from them. But to this Mr. Spencer would object that it would tend, like the learning of languages, “to increase the already undue25 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 momentous26 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 incapable27 of taking care of themselves in circumstances of peril28.”
§ 8. Indirect self-preservation, Mr. Spencer believes, may be much assisted by a knowledge of physiology29. “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[444] 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 scruple30 to acknowledge that he had never heard of the Eustachian tubes, and could not tell the normal rate of pulsation31. “So terribly,” adds Mr. Spencer, “in our education does the ornamental32 override33 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 physiological34 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 livelihood35. Here Mr. Spencer thinks it necessary to prove to us that such sciences as mathematics and physics and biology underlie36 all the practical arts and business of life. No one would think of joining issue with him on this point; but the question still remains37, what influence should this have on education?[445] “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 underlies39 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 wrangler40 has no advantage over a man who is entirely41 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[446] 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 shareholders42 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 geologist43, whose opinion would have been more valuable than their own, even though geology had taken the place of classics in their schooling44. “Daily are men induced to aid in carrying out inventions which a mere38 tyro45 in science could show to be futile46.” 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 phenomena47.” I believe this addition[447] 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 lamentable48 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 parental49 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 beacon50 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[448] 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 illustrate51 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 judicious52 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 vein53 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 indirectly54, much. The travelled man will not be such[449] 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 bondage55 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,[450] 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 relaxations56 and amusements filling leisure hours.” Mr. Spencer assures us that he will yield to none in the value he attaches to ?sthetic 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 Commonwealth57. “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]
[451]
§ 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[452] other people are blind. A primrose58 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 component59 parts. A knowledge of music is often of the greatest practical service, as by virtue60 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 consigns61 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 illustrated62 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.
§ 15. Let me now briefly sum up the conclusions arrived at, and consider how far I differ from Mr. Spencer. I believe that there is no one study which is suited to train the faculties of the mind at every stage of its development, and that when we have decided63 on the necessity of this or that knowledge, we must consider further what is the right time for acquiring it. I believe that intellectual education[453] should aim, not so much at communicating facts, however valuable, as at showing the boy what true knowledge is, and giving him the power and the disposition64 to acquire it. I believe that the exclusively scientific teaching which Mr. Spencer approves would not effect this. It would lead at best to a very one-sided development of the mind. It might fail to engage the pupil’s interest sufficiently65 to draw out his faculties, and in this case the net outcome of his school-days would be no larger than at present. Of the knowledges which Mr. Spencer recommends for special objects, some, I think, would not conduce to the object, and some could not be communicated early in life, (1.) For indirect self-preservation we do not require to know physiology, but the results of physiology. (2.) The science which bears on special pursuits in life has not, in many cases, any pecuniary66 value, and although it is most desirable that every one should study the science which makes his work intelligible67 to him, this must usually be done when his schooling is over. The school will have done its part if it has accustomed him to the intellectual processes by which sciences are learned, and has given him an intelligent appreciation68 of their value.[191] (3.) The right way of rearing and training children should be studied, but not by the children themselves. (4.) The knowledge which fits a man[454] to discharge his duties as a citizen is of great importance, and, as Dr. Arnold pointed69 out, is likely to be entirely neglected by those who have to struggle for a livelihood. The schoolmaster should, therefore, by no means neglect this subject with those of his pupils whose school-days will soon be over, but, probably, all that he can do is to cultivate in them a sense of the citizen’s duty, and a capacity for being their own teachers. (5.) The knowledge of poetry, belles-lettres, and the fine arts, which Mr. Spencer hands over to the leisure part of education, is the only knowledge in his program which I think should most certainly form a prominent part in the curriculum of every school.
§ 16. I therefore differ, though with great respect, from the conclusions at which Mr. Spencer has arrived. But I heartily70 agree with him that we are bound to inquire into the relative value of knowledges, and if we take, as I should willingly do, Mr. Spencer’s test, and ask how does this or that knowledge influence action (including in our inquiry71 its influence on mind and character, through which it bears upon action), I think we should banish72 from our schools much that has hitherto been taught in them, besides those old tormentors of youth (laid, I fancy, at last—requiescant in pace)—the Propria qu? Maribus and its kindred absurdities73. What we should teach is, of course, not so easily decided as what we should not.
§ 17. I now come to consider Mr. Spencer’s second chapter, in which, under the heading of “Intellectual Education,” he gives an admirable summing up of the main principles in which the great writers on the subject have agreed, from Comenius downwards74. These principles are, perhaps, not all of them unassailable, and even where they are true, many mistakes must be expected before we arrive[455] at the best method of applying them; but the only reason that can be assigned for the small amount of influence they have hitherto exercised is, that most teachers are as ignorant of them as of the abstrusest doctrines75 of Kant and Hegel.
§ 18. In stating these principles Mr. Spencer points out that they merely form a commencement for a science of education. “Before educational methods can be made to harmonise in character and arrangement with the faculties in the mode and order of unfolding, it is first needful that we ascertain with some completeness how the faculties do unfold. At present we have acquired on this point only a few general notions. These general notions must be developed in detail—must be transformed into a multitude of specific propositions before we can be said to possess that science on which the art of education must be based. And then, when we have definitely made out in what succession and in what combinations the mental powers become active, it remains to choose out of the many possible ways of exercising each of them, that which best conforms to its natural mode of action. Evidently, therefore, it is not to be supposed that even our most advanced modes of teaching are the right ones, or nearly the right ones.” It is not to be wondered at that we have no science of education. Those who have been able to observe the phenomena have had no interest in generalising from them. Up to the present time the schoolmaster has been a person to whom boys were sent to learn Latin and Greek. He has had, therefore, no more need of a science than the dancing-master.[192] But the present century, which has brought in so[456] many changes, will not leave the state of education as it found it. Latin and Greek, if they are not dethroned in our higher schools, will have their despotism changed for a very limited monarchy76. A course of instruction certainly without Greek and perhaps without Latin will have to be provided for middle schools. Juster views are beginning to prevail of the schoolmaster’s function. It is at length perceived that he has to assist the development of the human mind, and perhaps, by-and-bye, he may think it as well to learn all he can of that which he is employed in developing. When matters have advanced as far as this, we may begin to hope for a science of education. In Locke’s day he could say of physical science that there was no such science in existence. For thousands of years the human race had lived in ignorance of the simplest laws of the world it inhabited. But the true method of inquiring once introduced, science has made such rapid conquests, and acquired so great importance, that some of our ablest men seem inclined to deny, if not the existence, at least the value, of any other kind of knowledge. So, too, when teachers seek by actual observation to discover the laws of mental development, a science may be arrived at, which, in its influence on mankind, would perhaps rank before any we now possess.
§ 19. Those who have read the previous Essays will have seen in various forms most of the principles which Mr. Spencer enumerates77, but I gladly avail myself of his assistance in summing them up.
1. We should proceed from the simple to the complex,[457] both in our choice of subjects and in the way in which each subject is taught. We should begin with but few subjects at once, and, successively adding to these, should finally carry on all subjects abreast78.
Each larger concept is made by a combination of smaller ones, and presupposes them. If this order is not attended to in communicating knowledge, the pupil can learn nothing but words, and will speedily sink into apathy79 and disgust.
§ 20. That we must proceed from the known to the unknown is something more than a corollary to the above;[193] because not only are new concepts formed by the combination of old, but the mind has a liking80 for what it knows, and this liking extends itself to all that can be connected with its object. The principle of using the known in teaching the unknown is so simple, that all teachers who really endeavour to make anything understood, naturally adopt it. The traveller who is describing what he has seen and what we have not seen tells us that it is in one particular like this object, and in another like that object, with which we are already familiar. We combine these different concepts we possess, and so get some notion of things about which we were previously81 ignorant. What is required in our teaching is that the use of the known should be employed more systematically82. Most teachers think of boys who have no school learning as entirely ignorant. The least reflection shows, however, that they know already much more than schools can ever teach them. A sarcastic83 examiner is said to have handed a small piece of paper to a student and told him to write all he knew on it. Perhaps[458] many boys would have no difficulty in stating the sum of their school-learning within very narrow limits, but with other knowledge a child of five years old, could he write, might soon fill a volume.[194] Our aim should be to connect the knowledge boys bring with them to the schoolroom with that which they are to acquire there.[195] I suppose all will allow, whether they think it a matter of regret or otherwise, that hardly anything of the kind has hitherto been attempted. Against this state of things I cannot refrain from borrowing Mr. Spencer’s eloquent84 protest. “Not recognising the truth that the function of books is supplementary—that they form an indirect means to knowledge when direct means fail, a means of seeing through other men what you cannot see for yourself, teachers are eager to give second-hand85 facts in place of first-hand facts. Not perceiving the enormous value of that spontaneous education which goes on in early years, not perceiving that a child’s restless observation, instead of being ignored or checked, should be diligently86 ministered to, and made as accurate and complete as possible, they insist on occupying its eyes and thoughts with things that are, for the time being, incomprehensible and repugnant. Possessed87 by a superstition88 which worships the[459] symbols of knowledge instead of the knowledge itself, they do not see that only when his acquaintance with the objects and processes of the household, the street, and the fields, is becoming tolerably exhaustive, only then should a child be introduced to the new sources of information which books supply, and this not only because immediate89 cognition is of far greater value than mediate90 cognition, but also because the words contained in books can be rightly interpreted into ideas only in proportion to the antecedent experience of things.”[196] While agreeing heartily in the spirit of this protest, I doubt whether we should wait till the child’s acquaintance with the objects and processes of the household, the streets, and the fields, is becoming tolerably exhaustive before we give him instruction from books. The point of time which Mr. Spencer indicates is, at all events, rather hard to fix, and I should wish to connect book-learning as soon as possible with the learning that is being acquired in other ways. Thus might both the books, and the acts and objects of daily life, win an additional interest. If, e.g., the first reading-books were about the animals, and later on about the trees and flowers which the children constantly meet with, and their attention was kept up by large coloured pictures, to which the text might refer, the children[460] would soon find both pleasure and advantage in reading, and they would look at the animals and trees with a keener interest from the additional knowledge of them they had derived from books. This is, of course, only one small application of a very influential91 principle.
§ 21. One marvellous instance of the neglect of this principle is found in the practice of teaching Latin grammar before English grammar. As Professor Seeley has so well pointed out, children bring with them to school the knowledge of language in its concrete form. They may soon be taught to observe the language they already know, and to find, almost for themselves, some of the main divisions of words in it. But, instead of availing himself of the child’s previous knowledge, the schoolmaster takes a new and difficult language, differing as much as possible from English, a new and difficult science, that of grammar, conveyed, too, in a new and difficult terminology92, and all this he tries to teach at the same time. The consequence is that the science is destroyed, the terminology is either misunderstood, or, more probably, associated with no ideas, and even the language for which every sacrifice is made, is found, in nine cases out of ten, never to be acquired at all.[197]
[461]
§ 22. 2. “All development is an advance from the indefinite to the definite.” I do not feel very certain of the truth of this principle, or of its application, if true. Of course, a child’s intellectual conceptions are at first vague, and we should not forget this; but it is rather a fact than a principle.
§ 23. 3. “Our lessons ought to start from the concrete, and end in the abstract.” What Mr. Spencer says under this head well deserves the attention of all teachers. “General formulas which men have devised to express groups of details, and which have severally simplified their conceptions by uniting many facts into one fact, they have supposed must simplify the conceptions of a child also. They have forgotten that a generalisation is simple only in comparison with the whole mass of particular truths it comprehends; that it is more complex than any one of these truths taken simply; that only, after many of these single truths have been acquired, does the generalisation ease the memory and help the reason; and that, to a mind not possessing these single truths, it is necessarily a mystery. Thus, confounding two kinds of simplification, teachers have constantly erred93 by setting out with “first principles,” a proceeding94 essentially95, though not apparently96, at variance97 with the primary rule [of proceeding from the simple to the[462] complex], which implies that the mind should be introduced to principles through the medium of examples, and so should be led from the particular to the general, from the concrete to the abstract.” In conformity98 with this principle, Pestalozzi made the actual counting of things precede the teaching of abstract rules in arithmetic. Basedow introduced weights and measures into the school, and Mr. Spencer describes some exercise in cutting out geometrical figures in cardboard, as a preparation for geometry. The difficulty about such instruction is that it requires apparatus99, and apparatus is apt to get lost or out of order. But if apparatus is good for anything at all, it is worth a little trouble. There is a tendency in the minds of many teachers to depreciate100 “mechanical appliances.” Even a decent black-board is not always to be found in our higher schools. But, though such appliances will not enable a bad master to teach well, nevertheless, other things being equal, the master will teach better with them than without them. There is little credit due to him for managing to dispense101 with apparatus. An author might as well pride himself on being saving in pens and paper.
§ 24. 4. “The genesis of knowledge in the individual must follow the same course as the genesis of knowledge in the race.” This is the thesis on which I have no opinion to offer.
§ 25. 5. From the above principle Mr. Spencer infers that every study should have a purely102 experimental introduction, thus proceeding through an empirical stage to a rational.
§ 26. 6. A second conclusion which Mr. Spencer draws is that, in education, the process of self-development should be encouraged to the utmost. Children should be led to[463] make their own investigations103, and to draw their own inferences. They should be told as little as possible, and induced to discover as much as possible. I quite agree with Mr. Spencer that this principle cannot be too strenuously104 insisted on, though it obviously demands a high amount of intelligence in the teacher. But if education is to be a training of the faculties, if it is to prepare the pupil to teach himself, something more is needed than simply to pour in knowledge and make the pupil reproduce it. The receptive and reproductive faculties form but a small portion of a child’s powers, and yet the only portion which many schoolmasters seek to cultivate. It is indeed, not easy to get beyond this point; but the impediment is in us, not in the children. “Who can watch,” ask Mr. Spencer, “the ceaseless observation, and inquiry, and inference, going on in a child’s mind, or listen to its acute remarks in matters within the range of its faculties, without perceiving that these powers it manifests, if brought to bear systematically upon studies within the same range, would readily master them without help? This need for perpetual telling results from our stupidity, not from the child’s. We drag it away from the facts in which it is interested, and which it is actively105 assimilating of itself. We put before it facts far too complex for it to understand, and therefore distasteful to it. Finding that it will not voluntarily acquire these facts, we thrust them into its mind by force of threats and punishment. By thus denying the knowledge it craves106, and cramming108 it with knowledge it cannot digest, we produce a morbid109 state of its faculties, and a consequent disgust for knowledge in general. And when, as a result, partly of the stolid110 indolence we have brought on, and partly of still-continued unfitness in its studies, the child[464] can understand nothing without explanation, and becomes a mere passive recipient111 of our instruction, we infer that education must necessarily be carried on thus. Having by our method induced helplessness, we make the helplessness a reason for our method.” It is, of course, much easier to point out defects than to remedy them: but every one who has observed the usual indifference112 of schoolboys to their work, and the waste of time consequent on their inattention or only half-hearted attention to the matter before them, and then thinks of the eagerness with which the same boys throw themselves into the pursuits of their play-hours, will feel a desire to get at the cause of this difference; and, perhaps, it may seem to him partly accounted for by the fact that their school-work makes a monotonous113 demand on a single faculty—the memory.
§ 27. 7. This brings me to the last of Mr. Spencer’s principles of intellectual education. Instruction must excite the interest of the pupils and therefore be pleasurable to them. “Nature has made the healthful exercise of our faculties both of mind and body pleasurable. It is true that some of the highest mental powers as yet but little developed in the race, and congenitally possessed in any considerable degree only by the most advanced, are indisposed to the amount of exertion114 required of them. But these, in virtue of their very complexity115 will in a normal course of culture come last into exercise, and will, therefore, have no demands made on them until the pupil has arrived at an age when ulterior motives116 can be brought into play, and an indirect pleasure made to counterbalance a direct displeasure. With all faculties lower than these, however, the immediate gratification consequent on activity is the normal stimulus117, and under good management the only[465] needful stimulus. When we have to fall back on some other, we must take the fact as evidence that we are on the wrong track. Experience is daily showing with greater clearness that there is always a method to be found productive of interest—even of delight—and it ever turns out that this is the method proved by all other tests to be the right one.”
§ 28. As far as I have had the means of judging, I have found that the majority of teachers reject this principle. If you ask them why, most of them will tell you that it is impossible to make school-work interesting to children. A large number also hold that it is not desirable. Let us consider these two points separately.
Of course, if it is not possible to get children to take interest in anything they could be taught in school, there is an end of the matter. But no one really goes as far as this. Every teacher finds that some of the things boys are taught they like better than others, and perhaps that one boy takes to one subject and another to another; and he also finds, both of classes and individuals, that they always get on best with what they like best. The utmost that can be maintained is, then, that some subjects which must be taught will not interest the majority of the learners. And if it be once admitted that it is desirable to make learning pleasant and interesting to our pupils, this principle will influence us to some extent in the subjects we select for teaching, and still more in the methods by which we endeavour to teach them. I say we shall be guided to some extent in the selection of subjects. There are theorists who assert that nature gives to young minds a craving118 for their proper aliment, so that they should be taught only what they show an inclination119 for. But surely our natural inclinations120 in this matter, as in others, are neither on the[466] one hand to be ignored, nor on the other to be uncontrolled by such motives as our reason dictates121 to us. We at length perceive this in the physical nurture122 of our children. Locke directs that children are to have very little sugar or salt. “Sweetmeats of all kinds are to be avoided,” says he, “which, whether they do more harm to the maker123 or eater is not easy to tell.” (Ed. § 20.) Now, however, doctors have found out that young people’s taste for sweets should in moderation be gratified, that they require sugar as much as they require any other kind of nutriment. But no one would think of feeding his children entirely on sweetmeats, or even of letting them have an unlimited124 supply of plum puddings and hardbake. If we follow out this analogy in nourishing the mind, we shall, to some extent, gratify a child’s taste for “stories,” whilst we also provide a large amount of more solid fare. But although we should certainly not ignore our children’s likes and dislikes in learning, or in anything else, it is easy to attach too much importance to them. Dislike very often proceeds from mere want of insight into the subject. When a boy has “done” the First Book of Euclid without knowing how to judge of the size of an angle, or the Second Book without forming any conception of a rectangle, no one can be surprised at his not liking Euclid. And then the failure which is really due to bad teaching is attributed by the master to the stupidity of his pupil, and by the pupil to the dulness of the subject. If masters really desired to make learning a pleasure to their pupils, I think they would find that much might be done to effect this without any alteration125 in the subjects taught.
But the present dulness of school-work is not without its defenders126. They insist on the importance of breaking[467] in the mind to hard work. This can only be done, they say, by tasks which are repulsive127 to it. The schoolboy does not like, and ought not to like, learning Latin grammar any more than the colt should find pleasure in running round in a circle: the very fact that these things are not pleasant makes them beneficial. Perhaps a certain amount of such training may train down the mind and qualify it for some drudgery128 from which it might otherwise revolt; but if this result is attained129, it is attained at the sacrifice of the intellectual activity which is necessary for any higher function. As Carlyle says, (Latter-Day PP., No. iij), when speaking of routine work generally, you want nothing but a sorry nag23 to draw your sand-cart; your high-spirited Arab will be dangerous in such a capacity. But who would advocate for all colts a training which should render them fit for nothing but such humble130 toil131? I shall say more about this further on (v. pp. 472 ff.); here I will merely express my strong conviction that boys’ minds are frequently dwarfed132, and their interest in intellectual pursuits blighted133, by the practice of employing the first years of their school-life in learning by heart things which it is quite impossible for them to understand or care for. Teachers set out by assuming that little boys cannot understand anything, and that all we can do with them is to keep them quiet and cram107 them with forms which will come in useful at a later age. When the boys have been taught on this system for two or three years, their teacher complains that they are stupid and inattentive, and that so long as they can say a thing by heart they never trouble themselves to understand it. In other words, the teacher grumbles134 at them for doing precisely135 what they have been taught to do, for repeating words without any thought of their meaning.
[468]
§ 29. In this very important matter I am fully alive to the difference between theory and practice. It is so easy to recommend that boys should be got to understand and take an interest in their work—so difficult to carry out the recommendation! Grown people can hardly conceive that words which have in their minds been associated with familiar ideas from time immemorial, are mere sounds in the mouths of their pupils. The teacher thinks he is beginning at the beginning if he says that a transitive verb must govern an accusative, or that all the angles of a square are right angles. He gives his pupils credit for innate136 ideas up to this point, at all events, and advancing on this supposition he finds that he can get nothing out of them but memory-work; so he insists on this that his time and theirs may seem not to be wholly wasted. The great difficulty of teaching well, however, is after all but a poor excuse for contentedly137 teaching badly, and it would be a great step in advance if teachers in general were as dissatisfied with themselves as they usually are with their pupils.[198]
[469]
§ 30. I do not purpose following Mr. Spencer through his chapters on moral and physical education. In practice I find I can draw no line between moral and religious education; so the discussion of one without the other has not for me much interest. Mr. Spencer has some very valuable remarks on physical education which I could do little more than extract, and I have already made too many quotations138 from a work which will be in the hands of most of my readers.
§ 31. Mr. Spencer differs very widely from the great body of our schoolmasters. I have ventured in turn to differ on some points from Mr. Spencer; but I have failed to give any adequate notion of the work I have been discussing if the reader has not perceived that it is not only one of the most readable, but also one of the most important books on education in the English language.
点击收听单词发音
1 paradox | |
n.似乎矛盾却正确的说法;自相矛盾的人(物) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 engrossed | |
adj.全神贯注的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 impartial | |
adj.(in,to)公正的,无偏见的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 treatise | |
n.专著;(专题)论文 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 eminent | |
adj.显赫的,杰出的,有名的,优良的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 propounded | |
v.提出(问题、计划等)供考虑[讨论],提议( propound的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 distinguished | |
adj.卓越的,杰出的,著名的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 treatises | |
n.专题著作,专题论文,专著( treatise的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 antagonism | |
n.对抗,敌对,对立 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 garnished | |
v.给(上餐桌的食物)加装饰( garnish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 sarcasms | |
n.讥讽,讽刺,挖苦( sarcasm的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 impartiality | |
n. 公平, 无私, 不偏 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 faculties | |
n.能力( faculty的名词复数 );全体教职员;技巧;院 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 briefly | |
adv.简单地,简短地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 utterly | |
adv.完全地,绝对地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 staple | |
n.主要产物,常用品,主要要素,原料,订书钉,钩环;adj.主要的,重要的;vt.分类 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 scanty | |
adj.缺乏的,仅有的,节省的,狭小的,不够的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 worthy | |
adj.(of)值得的,配得上的;有价值的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 varied | |
adj.多样的,多变化的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 ascertain | |
vt.发现,确定,查明,弄清 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 fully | |
adv.完全地,全部地,彻底地;充分地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 nag | |
v.(对…)不停地唠叨;n.爱唠叨的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 derived | |
vi.起源;由来;衍生;导出v.得到( derive的过去式和过去分词 );(从…中)得到获得;源于;(从…中)提取 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 undue | |
adj.过分的;不适当的;未到期的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 momentous | |
adj.重要的,重大的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 incapable | |
adj.无能力的,不能做某事的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 peril | |
n.(严重的)危险;危险的事物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 physiology | |
n.生理学,生理机能 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 scruple | |
n./v.顾忌,迟疑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 pulsation | |
n.脉搏,悸动,脉动;搏动性 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 ornamental | |
adj.装饰的;作装饰用的;n.装饰品;观赏植物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 override | |
vt.不顾,不理睬,否决;压倒,优先于 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 physiological | |
adj.生理学的,生理学上的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 livelihood | |
n.生计,谋生之道 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 underlie | |
v.位于...之下,成为...的基础 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 remains | |
n.剩余物,残留物;遗体,遗迹 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 underlies | |
v.位于或存在于(某物)之下( underlie的第三人称单数 );构成…的基础(或起因),引起 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 wrangler | |
n.口角者,争论者;牧马者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 entirely | |
ad.全部地,完整地;完全地,彻底地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 shareholders | |
n.股东( shareholder的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 geologist | |
n.地质学家 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 schooling | |
n.教育;正规学校教育 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 tyro | |
n.初学者;生手 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 futile | |
adj.无效的,无用的,无希望的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47 phenomena | |
n.现象 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48 lamentable | |
adj.令人惋惜的,悔恨的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 parental | |
adj.父母的;父的;母的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50 beacon | |
n.烽火,(警告用的)闪火灯,灯塔 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51 illustrate | |
v.举例说明,阐明;图解,加插图 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
52 judicious | |
adj.明智的,明断的,能作出明智决定的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53 vein | |
n.血管,静脉;叶脉,纹理;情绪;vt.使成脉络 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54 indirectly | |
adv.间接地,不直接了当地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
55 bondage | |
n.奴役,束缚 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56 relaxations | |
n.消遣( relaxation的名词复数 );松懈;松弛;放松 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57 commonwealth | |
n.共和国,联邦,共同体 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58 primrose | |
n.樱草,最佳部分, | |
参考例句: |
|
|
59 component | |
n.组成部分,成分,元件;adj.组成的,合成的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
60 virtue | |
n.德行,美德;贞操;优点;功效,效力 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
61 consigns | |
v.把…置于(令人不快的境地)( consign的第三人称单数 );把…托付给;把…托人代售;丟弃 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
62 illustrated | |
adj. 有插图的,列举的 动词illustrate的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
63 decided | |
adj.决定了的,坚决的;明显的,明确的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
64 disposition | |
n.性情,性格;意向,倾向;排列,部署 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
65 sufficiently | |
adv.足够地,充分地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
66 pecuniary | |
adj.金钱的;金钱上的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
67 intelligible | |
adj.可理解的,明白易懂的,清楚的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
68 appreciation | |
n.评价;欣赏;感谢;领会,理解;价格上涨 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
69 pointed | |
adj.尖的,直截了当的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
70 heartily | |
adv.衷心地,诚恳地,十分,很 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
71 inquiry | |
n.打听,询问,调查,查问 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
72 banish | |
vt.放逐,驱逐;消除,排除 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
73 absurdities | |
n.极端无理性( absurdity的名词复数 );荒谬;谬论;荒谬的行为 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
74 downwards | |
adj./adv.向下的(地),下行的(地) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
75 doctrines | |
n.教条( doctrine的名词复数 );教义;学说;(政府政策的)正式声明 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
76 monarchy | |
n.君主,最高统治者;君主政体,君主国 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
77 enumerates | |
v.列举,枚举,数( enumerate的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
78 abreast | |
adv.并排地;跟上(时代)的步伐,与…并进地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
79 apathy | |
n.漠不关心,无动于衷;冷淡 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
80 liking | |
n.爱好;嗜好;喜欢 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
81 previously | |
adv.以前,先前(地) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
82 systematically | |
adv.有系统地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
83 sarcastic | |
adj.讥讽的,讽刺的,嘲弄的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
84 eloquent | |
adj.雄辩的,口才流利的;明白显示出的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
85 second-hand | |
adj.用过的,旧的,二手的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
86 diligently | |
ad.industriously;carefully | |
参考例句: |
|
|
87 possessed | |
adj.疯狂的;拥有的,占有的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
88 superstition | |
n.迷信,迷信行为 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
89 immediate | |
adj.立即的;直接的,最接近的;紧靠的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
90 mediate | |
vi.调解,斡旋;vt.经调解解决;经斡旋促成 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
91 influential | |
adj.有影响的,有权势的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
92 terminology | |
n.术语;专有名词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
93 erred | |
犯错误,做错事( err的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
94 proceeding | |
n.行动,进行,(pl.)会议录,学报 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
95 essentially | |
adv.本质上,实质上,基本上 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
96 apparently | |
adv.显然地;表面上,似乎 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
97 variance | |
n.矛盾,不同 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
98 conformity | |
n.一致,遵从,顺从 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
99 apparatus | |
n.装置,器械;器具,设备 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
100 depreciate | |
v.降价,贬值,折旧 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
101 dispense | |
vt.分配,分发;配(药),发(药);实施 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
102 purely | |
adv.纯粹地,完全地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
103 investigations | |
(正式的)调查( investigation的名词复数 ); 侦查; 科学研究; 学术研究 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
104 strenuously | |
adv.奋发地,费力地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
105 actively | |
adv.积极地,勤奋地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
106 craves | |
渴望,热望( crave的第三人称单数 ); 恳求,请求 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
107 cram | |
v.填塞,塞满,临时抱佛脚,为考试而学习 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
108 cramming | |
n.塞满,填鸭式的用功v.塞入( cram的现在分词 );填塞;塞满;(为考试而)死记硬背功课 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
109 morbid | |
adj.病的;致病的;病态的;可怕的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
110 stolid | |
adj.无动于衷的,感情麻木的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
111 recipient | |
a.接受的,感受性强的 n.接受者,感受者,容器 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
112 indifference | |
n.不感兴趣,不关心,冷淡,不在乎 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
113 monotonous | |
adj.单调的,一成不变的,使人厌倦的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
114 exertion | |
n.尽力,努力 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
115 complexity | |
n.复杂(性),复杂的事物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
116 motives | |
n.动机,目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
117 stimulus | |
n.刺激,刺激物,促进因素,引起兴奋的事物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
118 craving | |
n.渴望,热望 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
119 inclination | |
n.倾斜;点头;弯腰;斜坡;倾度;倾向;爱好 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
120 inclinations | |
倾向( inclination的名词复数 ); 倾斜; 爱好; 斜坡 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
121 dictates | |
n.命令,规定,要求( dictate的名词复数 )v.大声讲或读( dictate的第三人称单数 );口授;支配;摆布 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
122 nurture | |
n.养育,照顾,教育;滋养,营养品;vt.养育,给与营养物,教养,扶持 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
123 maker | |
n.制造者,制造商 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
124 unlimited | |
adj.无限的,不受控制的,无条件的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
125 alteration | |
n.变更,改变;蚀变 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
126 defenders | |
n.防御者( defender的名词复数 );守卫者;保护者;辩护者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
127 repulsive | |
adj.排斥的,使人反感的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
128 drudgery | |
n.苦工,重活,单调乏味的工作 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
129 attained | |
(通常经过努力)实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 ); 达到; 获得; 达到(某年龄、水平、状况) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
130 humble | |
adj.谦卑的,恭顺的;地位低下的;v.降低,贬低 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
131 toil | |
vi.辛劳工作,艰难地行动;n.苦工,难事 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
132 dwarfed | |
vt.(使)显得矮小(dwarf的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
133 blighted | |
adj.枯萎的,摧毁的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
134 grumbles | |
抱怨( grumble的第三人称单数 ); 发牢骚; 咕哝; 发哼声 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
135 precisely | |
adv.恰好,正好,精确地,细致地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
136 innate | |
adj.天生的,固有的,天赋的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
137 contentedly | |
adv.心满意足地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
138 quotations | |
n.引用( quotation的名词复数 );[商业]行情(报告);(货物或股票的)市价;时价 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |